What Isabelle Wants
by Moonshadow1
Summary: *FINAL CHAPTER* Max and Logan share stories. Meanwhile, back at the hospital ...
1. Night in Seattle

Disclaimer: Grace is my character, but as for the rest, I don't own them. I just have fun with them.  
  
A/N: Well, Grace is back. The early chapters of this story will refer back to parts of John Doe and especially chapters 3 and 4 of The Night Visitor. I'm writing this one as I go, so I'm not sure how it all turns out in the end ... maybe part of that will depend on what you have to say!  
  
As always, the story is spoiler free. Enjoy!  
  
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A Thursday night in January 2021 ...  
  
1 Metro Medical  
  
The hospital cafeteria was deserted at 10 PM, except for one or two unseen dishwashers banging around in the depths of the kitchen and a lone cleaning woman wiping tables. Grace sat down with a cup of tea, wrapping her cold hands nervously around the paper cup. Any minute now "Blowhard Bill" Norris, the hospital administrator, would show up and then it would be time for the news conference. Though all she had to do was stand there looking serious and concerned, she had stage fright. Her face itched from the makeup they'd insisted she wear. She just wanted to get it over with.  
  
Someone had left a newspaper face down on the seat of a nearby chair and to distract herself she picked it up. Flipping it over, she saw it was a tabloid. The cover featured a large photograph of an adorable toddler wearing only a cloth diaper. A huge pair of white feathered wings appeared to sprout from the baby's shoulders, and the banner headline asked, DO ANGELS WALK AMONG US? Grace smiled, wondering how the photographer had wrangled the kid into just the right position, like a little cherub about to take flight. It really was a very cute baby.  
  
The cleaning woman, who had been making her way across the room, looked over Grace's shoulder and snorted. "You know, they've got one of those things upstairs," she told Grace, swiping at the table.  
  
"What, a flying baby?" Grace asked, moving out of her way.  
  
"A flying something," said the woman. She looked around the room, then bent closer to Grace and confided, "I haven't seen it myself, but John in Housekeeping told me. Went up there to the private suites to clean up some mess or other and saw it with his own eyes."  
  
"Saw what?"  
  
The woman lowered her voice a little more. "You know that young girl they've got up there? Well, her first night here, she was hanging around John, pestering him like crazy, asking a million questions about the elevators and the locks and all that. He kind of got suspicious, you know? Sounded like she was gonna steal something. So when he finished he made her go back into her room and stood there watching to be sure she went in -- that's the only reason he was watching, you understand, just to be sure -- "  
  
"Of course," Grace assured her. "And?"  
  
"Well." The woman looked around again. "She hung around by the door for a while but when she saw John wasn't going anywhere, she finally gave up. And then, " the woman paused dramatically, "and then -- she was wearing a hospital gown, you know --"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Well. When she turned away the back of it fell open a bit, and John swears he saw wings."  
  
Grace almost started laughing, but the woman was sincere and she didn't want to be rude. "Like -- these?" she asked, holding out the tabloid.  
  
The woman studied the picture critically. "No, he said they were folded up under the gown, and they looked smooth. Not like angel wings at all," she added seriously.  
  
"Did he see, um, anything else?"  
  
"Nope. It was real quick, just looking through that little window in the door, you know. She turned the light out and he left. Didn't want anybody to think he was trying to peep or something."  
  
"Of course not," said Grace with a straight face.  
  
"Uh-oh, look who's coming." The woman nodded across the room. Blowhard Bill was striding directly towards them. Grace's heart sank. "Better get my underpaid ass back to work," the woman muttered, picking up her wet rag once again and turning away.  
  
Grace tried to fold the tabloid shut but she wasn't quick enough. Norris saw it in her hand and frowned. "All set, Grace? Good. That's just the kind of trash we're going out there to fight," he continued, looking at the tabloid. "Ridiculous rumors. People will believe anything, won't they?"  
  
They went to the news conference.  
  
  
  
2 A bar in Sector Nine  
  
Nobody looked up as Kara Bennett made her way across the dark, crowded room to a booth near the back, and nobody even glanced her way when she leaned down to kiss the woman who sat there. Kara, a reporter and sometime newscaster for Channel 3 (nights and weekends when the regular anchors wanted a day off) might be a local celebrity, but in this place she was just another dyke looking for a quiet place to have a beer with her girlfriend. Even in full makeup and suit jacket, the way she was now, she attracted practically no attention. Which was just the way she liked it, unless of course she was on the air.  
  
"Hey babe." Kara slid into the booth, looking at her watch. "Bad news. I can't stay long. Last-minute assignment to a press conference tonight. Metro Medical." Expecting disappointment or at least exasperation, she was surprised when Julie laughed.  
  
"Not as bad as my news." She pushed her half-empty mug towards Kara. "Looks like we're not going away this weekend. "  
  
Kara paused, the mug halfway to her mouth. "What? Why not?"  
  
Julie leaned forward, eyes shining. She was a small, plain woman who wore faded jeans and nondescript sweatshirts most of the time, but when she looked like this Kara couldn't resist her. "That vampire guy I've been trying to find? He called me this morning. He's willing to meet with me if I can make it tomorrow. That's tomorrow after sundown, of course. So ... " Julie shrugged. "I can't pass this up."  
  
"So come right back Saturday morning. We'll leave as soon as you get home. I'll pack everything. And I'll drive. You can sleep."  
  
"Awww, thanks, babe, but here's the complication. To make it out there tomorrow night I had to reschedule another appointment for Saturday."  
  
"Steelhead or Grunge Boy?" Julie was a writer who specialized in freaks, to put it plainly. The weirder the better. Aside from these kooks who had convinced themselves they were vampires, she was also hanging around with Steelheads crusading against employment discrimination against Steelheads, and with a teenage boy singlehandedly trying to revive the grunge era by chaining himself to a tree outside the house where Kurt Cobain had taken his own life.  
  
"Nope. Another reporter, actually. Guy named Logan Cale, wants to talk to me about Steelheads. If it works out we can trade tips, maybe help each other out. This could be a big lead for me. Prove that these guys aren't as innocent as they make themselves out to be when they're crying to the EEOC."  
  
"Logan Cale, huh?" Kara made a face.  
  
"You know him?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why don't you like him? What am I getting into? Is he a jerk or something?"  
  
"No." Kara played with the drops of condensation on the side of the beer mug. "He's okay. I just can't stand the way everyone else acts around him."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well .. the guy's in a wheelchair. Not that he takes advantage of whatever his condition is, but geez, you should have seen the women falling all over him. Like it was the most romantic thing ever. Ugh." Kara shuddered. "Don't tell anyone I said that, okay? He's a decent journalist and I guess a lot of girls think he's cute, but he just bored me to tears."  
  
Julie laughed. "I'd be a lot more offended if he interested you. Your secret's safe with me."  
  
Kara sighed. She wanted to go away for the weekend very badly, especially because she was pretty sure she had a line on an anchor slot the following weekend, so rescheduling wouldn't do ... and then she had an idea. "Could I meet him for you?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"Thought you couldn't stand to be around him. Besides, what do you know about Steelheads?"  
  
"It'll work." Kara leaned forward. "Give me something for him -- notes, contact list, anything you want -- and I'll get whatever you need from him. Then you guys can meet next week. Please?" she added, seeing Julie waver. "Pleeeeease?" She took Julie's hand and put on her most pleading expression.  
  
Julie smiled. "Promise me you'll play nice with him and maybe we'll have a deal."  
  
"Anything you want, sugar, anything you want. Gotta run now." Kara kissed her again and hurried happily out of the bar.  
  
  
  
3 Crash  
  
Crash was packed and there was so much noise Logan couldn't hear anything Max was saying. He didn't care. There was always his place if they needed quiet. It was enough to sit there and watch her. Her moods had been unpredictable since her return, but tonight she seemed happier than she had for a long time and best of all was seeing her smile. There hadn't been enough of Max's smiles in his life lately and though he hated Crash he was prepared to sit there all night to get as many of them as she would give.  
  
An outraged roar from the vicinity of the bar distracted him for a moment. Whatever they'd been watching on TV had suddenly been interrupted by a Channel 3 news flash. Out of professional habit Logan watched for a couple of seconds. He was about to look away when to his surprise he saw a familiar face.  
  
"Hey!" Max's voice cut through the din. "What are you staring at?" She twisted in her seat to check out the TV and he saw her frown. "Hey, isn't that --"  
  
Logan watched for a moment. "Yeah. It's Grace. That's weird."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I never knew handling hospital publicity was part of her job. And, I wonder why they're having a press conference." He tried to hear but it was hopeless. He turned his attention back to Max, but now she was the one focusing elsewhere. From the concentration on her face he realized she had tuned her hearing in to the distant television and was listening to the news conference.  
  
Logan sighed. Damn. If this took the joy out of Max's evening he would personally go up to the bar and rip the set from the wall. Then he realized that a look of alarm was spreading over her face.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Max gestured at the television. "Those reporters are saying that Metro Medical has some kind of freak in a private suite! You don't think --"  
  
"That they might have a transgenic in there? I don't know, Max."  
  
Max frowned for a moment, then made up her mind. "Got her number? She must have some idea of what's going on."  
  
"Not on me. It's probably at home. We can go look if you want. But," he added gently, "you're really the one --"  
  
"Yeah." Sure enough, Max was looking grim again. "Well, might as well get it over with. She has an office in the hospital?"  
  
"Ground floor, north side."  
  
"I think I'm feeling the need for a little spiritual guidance before bedtime," Max said, standing up. Zipping her jacket, she glanced down at him for a moment. "Sorry to bail on you like this," she said softly. Their eyes met. Logan looked at her steadily, warmly. He didn't want to fight with her tonight about her family.  
  
"Call me later?" he said, and was rewarded with one last smile.  
  
"Sure," she said sweetly, and vanished into the crowd. 


	2. So, We Meet Again

The north corridor was deserted when Max arrived but one office door was open, spilling light into the dark hallway. Max walked towards it quickly but uncertainly, as if she were a visitor lost in an unfamiliar building. She didn't want to get caught sneaking around like an intruder and she didn't want to get Grace in any trouble. In fact, Max didn't want to involve Grace at all but right now she didn't see any way around it. She hoped she could find out what she wanted to know and leave ... but nothing in her life was ever that easy any more.   
  
The light was indeed coming from Grace's office. She sat at her desk, still dressed in the clothes she had been wearing on television, searching through piles of paper. Max watched her for a moment and then said, "You're working late tonight."  
  
Grace didn't look up. The voice was familiar and most of her attention was focused on her search. Frustrated, she began, "I'm looking everywhere for a old friend's phone number, and ..."   
  
Then she glanced up and saw Max. She caught her breath. Though she had thought about the events of the summer many times, after a while Max and Logan had begun to seem unreal to her, like characters in a story. To see Max standing there, considerably cleaner and even more beautiful than at their last meeting, was like seeing a dream come to life. Especially because at that exact moment she had been trying to figure out how to find Max. She took a deep breath and said, "You must have read my mind. I was just looking for Logan's phone number. I think maybe --"  
  
"Something's going on here," Max finished for her. "Can I come in?"  
  
Max asking permission? That was new. "Sure," she said, watching as Max looked up and down the corridor, then stepped in and pulled the door closed.   
  
Max didn't waste any time. "So what have they got up there? We've hit all the major species so far. Can't wait to see what's next."  
  
Grace didn't quite get what she was talking about. "What I saw was just an obnoxious but beautiful thirteen-year-old girl --"  
  
"Well, that's a relief," Max interrupted. "At least it's not another freak of the week." She frowned, then said to herself, "Thirteen -- probably X-6 -- they're normal -- so what could they have noticed --"  
  
It wasn't clear whether Max wanted an answer, but Grace gave one anyway. "Well, the parents --"  
  
"Parents?" Max exclaimed. "Isn't she one of the ones who escaped?"  
  
Now Grace was thoroughly lost. "Escaped from where, when?"  
  
Max said impatiently, "A few months ago -- back in the fall -- Manticore was torched? The inmates fled the asylum? You know, 'Monsters walk among us,' that crap?" She stopped. "Don't tell me you thought it was really a VA hospital."  
  
"Oh. That." Like everyone else Grace had heard the rumors. "That was the official story here. They called a staff meeting and everything."  
  
Max was incredulous. "You didn't believe Eyes Only? You of all people?"  
  
Well, that was the thing. She hadn't heard Eyes Only. For a while Grace had avoided his broadcasts, though after the staff meeting there had been plenty of whispering about how it hadn't really been a terrorist organization and how Eyes Only was telling the straight story. She just hadn't paid attention, or surely she would have noticed the word Manticore. Unlike everyone else, Grace did know what that meant. "So he really did expose them," she heard herself saying aloud.  
  
She expected scorn, but to her surprise Max was quiet. After a moment she said, "Whatever. We can get back to that later. Right now tell me about these parents."  
  
"Sure. Dad is the owner of the Catwalk Modeling Agency -- you know, the one with all the male underwear models -- and Mom -- well, that's how I got dragged into this. She believes the human race was seeded here by an advanced culture from another planet."  
  
"Wack job," Max said dismissively. Grace couldn't help it. She laughed.  
  
"What?" Max demanded.  
  
"I don't know. Guess I thought you of all people would be a little more tolerant of diversity."  
  
"I'm not about aliens," Max said. "That's a line I don't cross. So she thinks there's some interplanetary babysitter out there watching over us?"  
  
"Which is now waiting for us to clone ourselves and achieve immortality. She's telling anyone who will listen that the daughter is a clone. The hospital administration doesn't want that getting out, so they're spreading the word that the mom is 'deeply religious.' I think it's supposed to explain why she's weird. And I'm lending the veneer of credibility that makes the whole thing fly."  
  
"You met the girl?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Barcode?"  
  
"Long blonde hair. I have no idea."  
  
"So the mother's going around telling everyone the kid is a clone. No wonder the press is jumping all over this. So that's all it is? Famous dad, crazy mom, press hot on some juicy gossip?" Max was beginning to relax.  
  
"That's the thing, Max. It's not just the press." Quickly Grace repeated what the cleaning lady had told her in the cafeteria before the conference.   
  
When she finished Max said, "How credible is this maintenance guy? He's not a drunk or a pervert or anything, is he?"  
  
"Who knows. I was told that the girl was here for treatment of scoliosis, which explains why her back looked strange, and that she's in seclusion because her father's famous, which explains the private suite."  
  
"Is the kid adopted or something?"   
  
Grace shook her head. "If she is, it was a long time ago. Mom talks a lot about when she was a baby. You know, I almost let this go. It's just that hearing the same rumor from two different places --" Grace trailed off. "You tell me."  
  
Max sat silent for a few moments. Then she shrugged. "Who knows, maybe flying saucers really did leave her here. Whatever. Doesn't sound like she's one of mine."  
  
"One of mine?" What did that mean? But Max was still talking. "Got a pen? Here's my pager number. Hit me if you need me."   
  
"Sure." Suddenly things felt awkward. Max stood, zipped her jacket, and nodded abruptly to Grace.  
  
"Good night," Grace said. She couldn't think of anything else to say.  
  
"Night," Max answered simply, and left. Grace watched her go with that same strange mixture of relief and disappointment she remembered so well from all the other times she'd watched one of them walk -- or run -- away from her.  
  
As they made their separate ways home, both Grace and Max were thinking that they had made a big deal about nothing. They were wrong. The next day all hell broke loose.  
  
That afternoon Grace went upstairs to pay her daily visit to the family, but she never made it into the suite. Stepping off the elevator she could already hear the shouting. "I knew you didn't love me. You never loved me!" That was the girl, Isabelle. Her high voice carried very clearly into the corridor. The father's deeper voice shouted back, indistinct but definitely angry, and woven through was the sound of the mother's crying, rising and falling between the two voices. Grace stopped. She leaned back against the corridor wall to wait for quiet, but the next words she heard shocked and chilled her.  
  
"That's why you're dragging me in here for surgery I don't want! I like the way I am. Why can't you just leave me alone?" The father said something and then Isabelle screamed, "So what if I came with a tattoo? Does that scare you? Maybe my real mother was some kind of street scum. Afraid you'll be embarrassed one of these days when somebody finds out you've got a freak daughter who's nothing but trash --" This was followed by the resounding metallic crash of a food tray hitting the wall.  
  
Grace didn't need to hear any more. She went directly to her office, locked the door, and dialed Max's pager. Max called back from a pay phone near a what sounded like a very backed-up sector checkpoint. Grace couldn't hear much over the blaring horns, except that Max asked to meet her at a corner near the hospital. Grace threw on her coat and hurried outside.   
  
Max was there first, and she wasn't alone. There was another messenger with her, a very, very good-looking young guy whose eyes widened in surprise when he saw Grace approaching. Grace distinctly heard him say, "Her?" to Max, and saw Max elbow him sharply in the side. He rolled his eyes but obediently remained silent as Grace walked up to them.   
  
"Hey," Max said. She nodded sideways at her companion, though she didn't look at him. "Grace, this is Alec. We work together."  
  
"Max taught me everything I know about delivering packages," Alec said to Grace with a smirk. This time, Max shoved him.  
  
"Shut up," she said, and then to Grace, in an exasperated tone, "Believe it or not, he's also from Manticore, so go ahead. What happened?"  
  
Quickly Grace explained what she had overheard outside the private suite.  
  
"Can you get me in there to see her?" Max asked immediately. "Say I'm a doctor or something?"  
  
"Me too?" said Alec. "I'd love to play doctor." Max ignored him.  
  
Grace frowned. "No offense, Max, but you're, ah, too young to pass for a doctor." She thought for a moment, then said, "Housekeeping might work, though. If you came in with the night shift nobody would notice."  
  
"When? Where?"  
  
"Ten o'clock, my office," Grace said.  
  
"Ten o'clock!" Alec scoffed. "Why don't you just call White and invite him over, Max, we need to go in there right now --"  
  
"Who?" Grace asked, confused. Nobody answered her.  
  
"If White's watching this place, you and me walking in there in broad daylight would be the stupidest possible choice we could make. We wait till tonight," Max decided.  
  
"Wait a minute. Says who?"   
  
"I say," Max told him.  
  
"Oh yeah? Who died and left you boss?"  
  
Max was instantly in Alec's face. "You don't ever want to say that to me again," she said with such evident anger that Alec held his hands up in surrender.  
  
"Okay, okay, it's just an expression --"  
  
Max released the front of his jacket and stepped back. "Give us a minute here."  
  
"Sure, take your time," Alec answered crossly, rearranging his turtleneck.  
  
"I mean get lost," Max growled, pointing at his bike.  
  
"Fine," Alec replied, and with exaggerated patience walked his bike several feet away, where he stood in front of a plate-glass store window checking out his hair.   
  
Max rolled her eyes. "I never should have let him in on this," she sighed. "Look, before tonight, I want you to do something."   
  
"What?"  
  
Max looked at her with a strange expression, as if she knew something Grace didn't and wasn't quite sure how Grace would react if she did know. "I think you need to give Logan a call. There's some stuff he should, ah, fill you in on."  
  
That wasn't what Grace had expected to hear, and it also wasn't something she felt like doing. "Why?" she said immediately.  
  
"What, is everyone going to argue with me today? I mean it. I really think you should do this. Here's the number." Max tore a corner off a package receipt and quickly scrawled a number. After a moment Grace accepted it.  
  
"Call," Max said emphatically, and then, "See you at ten." She walked her bike over to where Alec stood. It looked like they were arguing again. They fought like brother and sister, Grace thought, then looked down at the scrap of paper in her hand. Back to where it all started, she thought with a little laugh, recalling the long-gone summer morning when she had held another scrap of paper in her hand. What was this all about? Torn between curiosity and annoyance, she went back to the hospital. 


	3. It Was Lydecker's Idea

Grace was too busy for the next few hours to call Logan, which was fine with her. What a weird thing for Max to ask me to do, she kept thinking. She didn't want to talk to Logan, and she couldn't imagine why Max would want her to either. It wasn't until she was stuck in long, boring staff meeting, half-asleep in the back of a hot, crowded room, that she finally decided to go ahead and call him, simply because Max wanted her to.   
  
Grace had thought many times, more than she wanted to admit, about that last talk she'd had with Bling, and his idea that somehow she was meant to know Max and Logan. As she had said that day, she wasn't big on the whole destiny-and-fate idea, and at first it annoyed her. But Bling had showed her something about herself she probably wouldn't have realized on her own, which was that she had enjoyed her summer adventures. And now she had to face it honestly: she wanted some more. If calling Logan was the condition Max put on her participation, then how bad could it be?  
  
As soon as the meeting ended she went back to her office and did what she had to do.   
  
Logan asked to meet her at a diner near the hospital, an old run-down dump with lousy food and worse coffee. Not Logan's style, unless this was some kind of undercover situation he didn't want happening in his usual surroundings. Grace liked that little touch of mystery.  
  
Logan was already there when she arrived, drinking coffee and reading some papers. She saw him before he saw her. In some ways, he was just as she remembered him, the plain sweater, the baggy pants and thick shoes he always wore with the exoskeleton. But seeing him felt just like seeing Max. Like Max, he looked different. He looked wonderful, and for a moment she completely forgot why she was there. Then she took a breath and set the feeling aside. Before she had time to change her mind, she walked up to the table and said, "Hello."  
  
He looked up then and smiled. "Hello," he returned, pushing the papers aside while Grace sat down. There was a couple of seconds of silence, another awkward smile, and then both of them said,  
  
"You look well."  
  
Grace was surprised. Did she really? Of course both Max and Logan had a very good reason to look happy, but was she really that glad to see them and did it show that much? Feeling a little more relaxed, she began, "Well ... congratulations."  
  
"For ..."  
  
"She's back. You found her," Grace said.   
  
"Actually, she found me," Logan answered. He took a sip of his coffee, concentrating on the cup, then put it down and looked straight at Grace. Later she thought to herself that after the other times he'd given her that look, the times he was about to tell her something she didn't want to hear, that she would have seen it coming. But she was too excited. She didn't get it. "How much did Max tell you, anyway?" he began.  
  
"Not much. Including what I'm doing here right now."  
  
"Grace, over the summer you weren't aware of everything that was happening." There was just a tiny twinkle in his eye as he added, "And apparently I wasn't either."  
  
"Oh." Grace felt her face turning red. "She, uh, told you we met before?"  
  
"Yes. Which is why she wants us to talk."  
  
"Okay." Ugh, this was a moment she had hoped would never happen. Was it going to be some kind of lecture about how dishonest she had been? She squirmed a little.  
  
Logan looked her straight in the eye. "Max wants you to know, and I do too, that when you met her, the night you helped her and her sister -- I already knew she was alive and had escaped from Manticore. In fact, we had just seen each other that afternoon."  
  
"What?"   
  
"I knew she was alive. I knew she had escaped. You just didn't know."  
  
Of all the outrageous, improbable possibilities, this one had never, ever crossed her mind. All she could think of to say was, "How long? Was she around when we --"  
  
"No," Logan assured her quickly. "She was still imprisoned, then. We were right, though, that Manticore people were watching me. And you. Not because Max had escaped, but because they were planning to let her escape."  
  
"Oh," Grace said faintly.  
  
"Which they did, and she came back to Seattle about a week before you met her. Do you remember hearing about a fire at a VA hospital?"  
  
Grace nodded. Just last night, as a matter of fact, she thought.  
  
"That was Manticore. Their plans for Max didn't quite work out the way they were supposed to, and the place burned to the ground the night Max broke out. Freeing quite a few soldiers and other Manticore personnel. And that's when it got complicated." He stopped, giving her a "Are you following all this?" look.   
  
"Why?" Grace asked. One word at a time seemed to be all she could manage.  
  
"Someone -- we don't know who -- very much does not want any Manticore personnel out there. They've sent a man named White to hunt down and execute anyone who escaped that night."  
  
White. That was the guy Alec had mentioned, wasn't it?  
  
Logan went on, "After Max had been out only a few days, we discovered that he was luring fugitives out of hiding with a satellite signal. Max and Alec took out the transmitter and scared the guy off for a while. Then I helped her get some Manticore kids over the border into Canada. And that's where you came in."  
  
This time Grace couldn't even respond. She just sat there, staring, thinking, This ought to be good.  
  
"We were out in the woods, about an hour north of the city. We saw the kids off, and then Max said she wanted to ride her bike back, clear her head. I drove back alone. And then I didn't hear from her. For a couple of days.  
  
"So I called her place, and her roommate said she hadn't been back. She assumed Max was still with me, and I assumed Max was back at home with her. What neither of us realized was that she was with her sister, Jace. And you."  
  
Now Grace was speechless.  
  
"Apparently not long before the fire, Jace's hiding place was discovered. She left Mexico right away and headed north. When she saw the satellite signal she knew soemthing was up, and called her contact number. Max answered the call. She never went back home, just met Jace. Max hid her for a couple of days, and then found you.  
  
"By the time I even realized Max was gone, you were back in Seattle and they were across the border. Grace, you have to understand, I had no idea where she really was. I called Lydecker and we were sure that White had her. So we came up with a plan to find her, and that's when I called you." He stopped again.  
  
"You let me think you believed she was still dead," Grace said finally. Incredulously.  
  
Logan met her eyes steadily. "And you let me think she was vanished without a trace."  
  
"I thought I was protecting her!"  
  
"I know," Logan said gently. "You did what you thought was right, Grace. I understand that. Anyway. We thought it was a matter of life and death that we find her, and you helped us do that. Lydecker tracked her down, and I went after her. Of course it turned out to be a false alarm, but I didn't know that then."  
  
"She said she was never coming back," Grace said without thinking, and then regretted it immediately. Her face burned even redder. Maybe that was a secret Max had meant to keep. But Logan didn't look disturbed.  
  
"She considered that," he said. "Changed her mind."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You really should ask her that."  
  
Grace shrugged. What difference did it make? She would never see any of them again after Max left tonight. There was room in her mind for only one thought anyway, and now she said it. "You lied to me."  
  
"Technically, no, I didn't. Lydecker lied to you, and I played along. It's the same difference, though, and I'm sorry. I very nearly backed out of it that night in the car, after the warehouse, but you insisted everything was okay, and I thought Max's life was in danger."  
  
"You used me. He used me, " Grace said.  
  
"Yes. We weren't sure whether either of us was on White's radar, but you were the perfect cover."  
  
"You could have told me."  
  
"Lydecker argued against that, for a number of reasons. First, if you were caught, it would be better for you not to know anything. Second, we wanted to be sure you were under observation at all times."  
  
"So I couldn't sneak off again?"  
  
"So you could be safe, Grace. These people are not playing around, and although you've been both generous and brave, there were limits to the risks I would let you take." He smiled faintly. "I will tell you that Lydecker was a bit more cynical. He was sure you were hiding something -- which you were -- and he wanted to know where you were all the time. Especially after you told him you'd never been ordained."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"He thought it was possible -- remotely, but possible -- that you were working for our enemies -- Manticore, White. What more perfect cover could there be than the kind, sympathetic chaplain befriending a grieving man?"  
  
Grace shook her head. Good Lord, she thought, now she really had heard everything. "And?" she asked.  
  
"That's about it, except for Max's side of the story. But I won't speak for her." He folded his arms. "Now you know, in case --"  
  
"In case what? In case I decide to say 'screw you' to the whole lot of you?"   
  
Logan seemed surprised, for the first time almost uncertain. Of course, he'd never heard her speak that way, ever, and considering that she'd done anything and everything to help them, she guessed he hadn't been expecting it even this time. She found herself pushing her chair back, standing, grabbing her coat all at once.   
  
Logan said, "I know you're angry --"  
  
"Angry?" That was exactly how she sounded, angry. "It's not that. But, unlike you people, I have a job and I can't keep sneaking off in the middle of the afternoon to set up break-ins and hear confessions. I have to go." She pulled on her gloves. "Thanks for the coffee," she said shortly, and walked out of the diner. 


	4. Right Back at Her

There were two messsages on Logan's cell phone when he left the diner. The first was from Max and was one word long: "Hey." That made him laugh. Hard to tell whether she had a bunch of White's people on her tail or just wanted him to pick something up at the market on the way home. He called back right away but she didn't answer the page. Typical. Which was why he had a brand-new cell phone sitting next to him on the front seat of the car. She'd never accept it as a gift, but he had a plan for getting around that.  
  
The second call was from Julie Cheng, the writer he was supposed to meet later tonight. "There's a slight change in the arrangements," her soft voice informed him. "Call me back, please." Damn. This meeting was very important. She'd better not be canceling out. He returned the call immediately but got her voicemail. Well, he'd try her again from home.  
  
He started the car and pulled out into traffic. Mission accomplished. For himself, he was relieved. He hadn't known how it would feel to see Grace again. The summer and everything about it felt distant and unreal to him these days, like a photograph that had faded after too long in bright sunlight. That was what shock did to you, washed out the past. And nothing in his life had ever shocked him more deeply than the night of Max's return, the unbelievable joy of feeling her in his arms again, followed by the hours at death's door and the days of recovery from the virus. After all that, the summer had seemed like part of another lifetime. Still, he respected Grace and appreciated what she had done for him -- for them. Though today hadn't exactly expressed that, he thought wryly.   
  
Last night Max had told him she couldn't accept any more help from Grace unless Grace knew the truth. He loved that about Max, her sense of honor, the way she wanted to be fair, even when life hadn't been fair to her.   
  
But there was a darker side to Max's request, which only confirmed what been in his heart for a while now. She had asked him not to tell Grace about the virus. She'd tried to be casual about it, and he had hidden his concern as best he could, simply telling her he wouldn't bring it up unless it was absolutely necessary. But it was clear to him that Max felt vulnerable, that she didn't want Grace to know that anything stood between them.   
  
Which meant that she didn't really believe, not yet, in his love for her.   
  
He was exasperated with himself for not seeing it sooner. You had a pretty romantic picture of yourself built up there, buddy, he told himself, the suffering hero, intimately acquainted with despair and darkness. You thought you knew everything there was to know about self-loathing -- until it happened to the woman you love, and then you didn't have a clue.  
  
How many times over the summer had he told himself that if he had just one more chance, he would put doubt and fear behind him forever and just love her, no matter what? And then he got his second chance. He still woke up every day with amazement and gratitude in his heart. What difference did it make if they couldn't touch right now? he told himself. It was truly enough to be in the same room together.   
  
But had he really thought it would be that easy, that like magic all their problems would be solved when he opened his heart? At first he had, but the wake-up calls had come pretty quickly, though he had tried hard to ignore them for a while.  
  
When she disappeared with her sister, he'd told himself that it was just typical Max, too conscientious, probably because the baby was involved. He knew how much it had hurt her when she couldn't keep her promise to Case Smith. He didn't drag her back from Canada; he did what he could to help and then left, leaving her to return when she felt sure Jace and the baby were safe.   
  
He'd thought the worst was over, but it was still on its way.   
  
Because after that was the night she'd come to the apartment, late, near tears, to tell him she had given their cure money to save Alec's life. That had hurt. He sat by the window for a long time, long after she had left, until the eastern sky lightened and the stars went out. That sunrise had marked the moment when he began to understand what had happened to Max, that despite all her spirit and her love and her courage, somehow she had crossed that line into believing what Renfro told her about herself, that she was poison. And she was doing everything she could to prove to him -- and to herself -- that it was true.'  
  
Now he understood the sauce night. He had tried to make light of it, show her he wasn't afraid, but she had walked out the door anyway, saying the words out loud: "I can't do this, it's too hard."   
  
It kept happening. Rafer. He knew she had encouraged him briefly, knew she had been thinking it would be easier. And of course the whole business with Asha hadn't helped one bit either.  
  
He'd spent another long night awake then, thinking. For the first time he understood that reassurance and hopeful words were going to be useless. It was just like all those times he'd tried to tell Max how much he hated his life in the wheelchair, how much he hated himself in the wheelchair. And because the wheelchair hadn't mattered for one second to her, she simply hadn't been able to hear him. That's what he had been doing to her. Because the virus couldn't even cast a shadow on his love for her, he had been blind to how deeply it had damaged her love for herself. A wave of compassion swept over him then. He would do anything to spare Max that pain, knowing all too well himself what that pain was like.  
  
The first step, of course, was to do whatever it took to find the cure. He began to search for a doctor, a scientist, anyone who might be able to help. But he also knew from bitter experience that sometimes there were no cures, not permanent ones anyway. He wanted her face to light up again when he came into a room, knowing beyond all question that not even the virus could make him hate or fear her. She needed to believe in his love.  
  
Of course, it went without saying that the standard flowers-and-chocolates stuff was wasted on Max. So he decided to speak instead to that skeptical soldier in her. If he could win that stubborn heart over, the rest would be easy.   
  
He was going to confront her with proof. A ton of it.  
  
He stopped arguing about her family. He started going with her to Crash, a place he passionately hated. If he absolutely needed to work with Asha, he did it discreetly. He kept his distance physically, too, not because he was afraid but because now he realized how much it frightened Max when he came too close. And he had begun, very gently, to challenge her sometimes. Like the at the hospital the night of the chicken pox incident, when she refused to ride home with him. Not that he had convinced her to get in the car, but at least he had made it clear that their little scare hadn't scared him at all. Just like all those times she had adamantly refused to see him as a cripple -- even when he was begging for it -- he refused to see her as poison.   
  
Right back at her.  
  
And lately -- well, he thought maybe he was seeing small signs, here and there, signs of hope. A few more smiles. Some laughter. A place to start.  
  
Still, it was a hard thing to handle alone. He wished there was help, but he knew better than to think that Max would ever accept it. Too bad it was completely inappropriate and out of the question for Grace to befriend Max. He did remember very clearly how good Grace was at accepting people as they were, at not fearing their pain and grief. If only he could find a way to bring some more of that into Max's life.  
  
I know who you are. He had said those words to Max, but she wasn't that person any more, at least not right now. I know who you have been, and who you will be again someday, he told her silently as he pulled into the parking garage. Hang in there and we'll find a way, I promise you.  
  
------------------------------  
  
Grace walked back to the hospital so fast she was practically running. She knew she was pushing rudely past anyone who got in her way, but she was so upset, so angry, that she just didn't care. It wasn't until she crossed an avenue against the light and was very nearly hit by an oncoming garbage truck that she made a conscious effort to slow down, though not before snapping nastily at the driver, who kept yelling at her, "What's the matter with you? You couldn't see this coming?" and pounding the side of the truck for emphasis.  
  
"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she shouted back, thinking, Yeah, that's right, I didn't see it coming. None of it.  
  
After that she jammed her hands in her pockets and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself, but scenes kept flashing through her mind, each one making her angrier than the last. Grace and Max, standing in the cold darkness outside a cave in the woods, Grace saying "Why haven't you asked how he is?" and Max answering, "I know how he is." Logan in the car, saying "I'm having second thoughts." Lydecker watching her, late at night, in the shadows of the warehouse, saying "He's not for you. He's in love with her. Always has been."   
  
How could she have been so naive, so stupid? How could she have been silly enough to think she had some special part to play in the whole Manticore drama? She wasn't angry at Logan so much as she was angry at herself. She'd left herself wide open for humiliation, getting all these romantic ideas. She had nobody to blame but herself.  
  
Well, tonight it ended. She would go back to the hospital, call Max, and make it clear that she was now on her own. Tonight's little adventure was canceled. Then Grace could do what she should have done long ago, which was forget all of them and get on with her life. She pushed open the heavy glass hospital doors a lot harder than she needed to. It felt good.   
  
She was so deep into her own thoughts that she nearly shrieked when someone grabbed her arm. Security? Why on earth were they after her?   
  
"Hey," the guard was saying. "Hey, didn't you hear me? Can I see some ID, please?"  
  
ID? They never asked for ID. Did she look that crazy? Right now she wouldn't doubt it.  
  
"Just a minute," she apologized, digging in her pockets. The guard watched her sternly. Finally Grace produced her ID card, which he examined at length before returning it to her and nodding once. "Sorry," he said curtly. "Be sure you have that with you at all times tonight. We're on alert."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Missing patient."  
  
"Oh. Who is it? One of the drunks again?"  
  
"No ma'am," said the guard stiffly. "Young girl missing from a private suite upstairs. Half the cops in the city are up there now trying to figure out what happened."  
  
Oh no. Grace went cold. He had to be talking about Isabelle, it couldn't be anyone else. She ran to her office, closed the door, smacked her fist down on the desk. Damn! she thought, running her hands over her hot face. Of course the right thing to do was call Max. They all seemed to be afraid of this guy White, and with the press spreading plenty of rumor and speculation about the girl at Metro Medical, he could so easily have put two and two together. Wasn't that what Alec had warned Max about?  
  
Damn! Grace thought again. Because tonight -- well, tonight, the right thing was the last thing Grace felt like doing. 


	5. Sister Mac

Max got home from work late that night. Cindy had already come and gone, leaving Max a note to join them at Crash. She wasn't in the mood. She'd had to take the very last, one-minute-before-closing run because freaking Alec had disappeared, probably off somewhere with Sketchy doing something unspeakable, and she'd had the bad luck to be passing by Normal at the exact moment that last package came in. Now all she wanted was a hot bath and a call from Logan. He'd hit her beeper while she was heading home from the delivery, way the hell across town. She intended to stay put until the beeper buzzed again.  
  
Which it did, right then. Max grinned. For once she was going to have both the pleasure of speaking to Logan and the luxury of an uninterrupted hot bath. Then she glanced at the display. Whose number was that? Frowning, she called.  
  
"Hello?" The voice on the other end was female. What was up with that? Max never got calls from females. Asha, maybe? She hadn't paid attention the night she'd called Asha for help, the night they'd rushed Logan to the hospital. All she could remember was "speed dial 6."   
  
"Asha?" she said.  
  
"Who?"  
  
Now Max was getting impatient. "Look, who is this? Have you got the wrong number or what?"  
  
"Is this Max?"  
  
"Who wants to know?"  
  
"Max, this is Grace." Oh, for crying out loud, Max thought, now what. She looked longingly at the bathroom door.  
  
"I'm at the hospital. Don't ask me why I'm doing this, but I think you should know that our friend upstairs has disappeared. This place is full of cops trying to figure out what happened."  
  
"Don't move. I'll be right there." Max hung up and grabbed her jacket and the keys to her bike, thinking rapidly. She supposed that the girl's disappearance could be the work of some sicko or freak at the hospital, but with all the attention the press was giving the story, she feared the worst: White. Those rent-a-cops who worked in hospital security couldn't catch their own asses if they weren't attached to their backsides. White could have slipped in and out with the girl easily. As soon as she got there she'd give Logan a call and get him hacked into the police database and alerting the informant net. And dammit, where was Alec? He could at least make himself useful at a time like this.  
  
Grace had the presence of mind to be waiting at the hospital door to escort her past security. Max approved. Grace was no dummy. Max wasn't exactly interested in making friends with her, but dealing with her could be a lot worse, she thought, cutting to the chase as they hurried down the hall to Grace's office. "Anyone see anything weird? Soldiers? Maybe a clean-cut white guy around thirty or so, in a real bad mood?"  
  
At that Grace raised her eyebrows. "Could you be a little more specific? That describes half the administration of the hospital."  
  
"White. Did --"  
  
"Yeah, Logan explained. This year's bad guy. Not as far as I know." They had reached Grace's office; Max shut the door and picked up the phone, quickly dialing Logan's number.   
  
Logan answered immediately. At the welcome sound of his voice, she began, "Good. I need you --"  
  
"Max," he interrupted. "I've got company."  
  
Oh no. She felt a moment of panic. It was always in the back of her mind, the worry that one day they would track him down and ... then what he was saying got through to her. "Alec is here. And he's got someone with him. I think you know who she is -- long blond hair, bar code --"  
  
Standing right next to Max, Grace saw her eyes widen and heard her breathe in sharply. "What the hell is she doing with Alec?" Max shouted right next to her ear, and Grace jumped back. "Don't move, we'll be right there," Max said into the phone, slamming it down. "Alec has the girl at Logan's apartment," she announced, outraged.  
  
"What?" Grace wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. "Why --"  
  
"Good question. He's got some major explaining to do. Let's go." Max began to open the office door.  
  
"Go where?'  
  
"Logan's," Max said impatiently. "Hurry up."  
  
"No thanks," Grace refused. "I'll wait right here for you. As long as it takes," she added when she saw Max starting to look annoyed.  
  
"You have to come with me. She knows you. Come on," Max added, trying to be persuasive, "you can bring her back and be a hero --"  
  
Of course Max didn't have any idea how angry that made her right now, especially thinking about going to Logan's, which was just about the last place on earth she wanted to be right now. She laughed. "Oh, is this like the last time I was a hero? When I thought I was protecting you and I wasn't? When I thought I was helping Logan and I wasn't? Oh yeah -- and when I thought you were dead but you weren't?"  
  
"This is different." Max waved a hand at the office. "This is your world."  
  
"So bring her back and I'll take it from there."  
  
Max looked at her more closely, folded her arms. She does that just like Logan, Grace thought. "Okay, so you're mad at us," Max said. "But you wanna play with the big girls and boys, you can't cry when you fall down and scrape your knees. Now, what's it gonna be?"  
  
"Listen, Max," Grace began, intending to refuse one more time, but just then the door pushed open. Blowhard Norris strode into the office, or at least as much of a stride as he could manage in the tiny space with Grace and Max standing so close to the door. He nodded once to Grace, looking suspiciously at Max.   
  
"Who are you?" he asked. "Max, did you say?"  
  
Grace felt Max stepping on her toes in warning. She dared not look, but she was sure Max didn't want anyone to know her name. Quickly she put on her game face, smiling at Norris and looking as professional as she could manage. "Not Max, Mac," she corrected. "Dr. Norris, this is Mac, that's, ah, short for Immaculata. Sister Immaculata. Mac, this is Dr. Norris, the hospital administrator." This was bad. No way Max would be able to sneak around incognito now. She was far too beautiful to be forgettable.  
  
"Nice to meet you," Max said sweetly, offering her hand.  
  
Norris took it, still suspicious. "You don't look much like a nun," he said bluntly, looking at Max's jeans and leather jacket.  
  
"Sister Mac has a special calling. She, ah, has an inner-city youth ministry," Grace invented. Actually, it probably wasn't that far from the truth.  
  
"I dress like this, they trust me, you know?" Max added.  
  
"Ah." Norris said. "Are you here to help us locate our missing young patient, then?"  
  
There was a moment of silence. Max and Norris both looked at Grace, waiting. From your mouth to God's ear, Grace thought in exasperation. "Yes, that is what we were thinking," she answered. "Mac can take me places the police don't know about. It's worth a shot, right?"  
  
"Good thinking," Norris replied heartily. "Check in with me every few hours and give me a progress update, please. We've got to get that girl back in here as quickly as possible. And don't speak to the press, whatever you do."  
  
"Of course," Grace said.  
  
"Well, nice to meet you, Sister. Call me," he instructed Grace as he strode back down the hallway. Max gestured at the door.  
  
"Ever ride on a motorcycle before?"  
  
"No," Grace answered, heart sinking. Norris. Logan's apartment. Max's motorcyle. Could she get in any deeper?  
  
--------------------------  
  
Logan was waiting at the door. Max swept in, demanding, "What the hell is he doing here with her?" and the two of them went down the hall together, leaving Grace to follow in their wake. Not that she minded. She was happy to stay as far in the background as she could get.  
  
And then an interesting thing happened. She had never seen Max and Logan together before, and now what struck her was the unspoken bond between them. It was something you could almost reach out and touch. It was in the way Logan, usually so secretive, looked at Max with his whole soul in his face, even though his attention was completely focused on her rapid-fire questions. And it was in the way Max, who not two minutes ago had been speeding recklessly on her bike through the wet streets, now matched her step to Logan's slower, slightly hesitant walk. She doesn't even know she's doing it, Grace thought, all she knows is that she's beside him.   
  
She was so caught up in the sight that she didn't immediately notice the couple on the couch, and then when she did a few more seconds passed before she realized they weren't a couple. Or shouldn't have been. It was Isabelle and Alec, and to Grace's horror Isabelle was smiling up at Alec flirtatiously. Alec was keeping his distance, but he wasn't exactly discouraging Isabelle either.  
  
When Max marched up to the couch he looked up cheerfully. "Oh, hi there, Maxie. This is Isabelle. Isabelle, this is --"  
  
Isabelle had turned away from Alec at the sound of Max's voice, and now she spotted Grace standing behind Max. Her smile vanished. "What are YOU doing here?" she demanded suspiciously. "Did my parents send you?"  
  
"No--" Grace began, and at the same time Max was hissing at Alec, "You wanna explain to me --"  
  
Alec leaned back and crossed his legs, the picture of calm and self-assurance. "Now just take it easy, Max," he began, glancing meaningfully at Isabelle, who was busy glaring at Grace.   
  
"My parents must have sent you," Isabelle insisted. Grace saw Max take a deep breath and paste a smile on her face. Look, it's Sister Mac, Grace thought, amused, as Max tried to reassure the girl.  
  
"Hi Isabelle. Nobody's here from your parents. Grace and I are here to help you, okay? Now could you sit here with Grace for a couple of minutes while just have a word with Alec in the kitchen?"  
  
Isabelle looked at Alec, Alec nodded, and Isabelle said reluctantly, "Yeah, sure." She sank back on the couch with a sullen expression, staring at her nicely manicured fingernails. Alec, Max, and Logan left the room. Grace wandered to the window, suddenly acutely uncomfortable again. Hostile teenagers always caught her off-balance, and once Max and Logan left the room, memories of the summer came rushing back. For just a moment she wanted to cry. Then she heard Max and Alec.  
  
"How did she get out of the hospital?" Max was asking, through clenched teeth from the sounds of it.  
  
"While you and your spiritual advisor out there were figuring out how to play dress-up, I had a few minutes left over at the end of a run. So I stopped by to check it out. You ought to be thanking me, Maxie, she was about to make a break for it on her own." Grace heard the sound of keys jingling. "Lifted these from the janitor this morning when she threw her breakfast against the wall. At least she's where we can keep an eye on her."  
  
"Are you out of your mind?" Max cried. "Do you know how old she is?"  
  
Grace could almost hear Alec shrugging. "Sixteen, eighteen. Who cares?"  
  
"She's thirteen, you idiot!"  
  
"So?"  
  
"Didn't they teach you anything at Manticore? She's underage, Alec. That means we could be charged with kidnapping. And if you keep flirting with her --" Max's voice was rising.  
  
Logan said quietly, "Max, calm down --"  
  
It was too late. The next thing Grace knew Isabelle was rushing into the kitchen angrily. "Leave him alone! He helped me!" she yelled at Max.   
  
"Hey, it's okay," Alec soothed Isabelle, putting himself in between Max and Isabelle. Isabelle stopped, but didn't back off.   
  
"Max," Alec said, "listen to me. She's one of us."  
  
"No kidding --" Max began. Alec interrupted.  
  
"Show her," he encouraged Isabelle. Isabelle frowned.  
  
"No," she refused.  
  
That shut everyone up. 


	6. Common Verbal Usage

After that everything happened so quickly Grace didn't have time to think.  
  
"It's cool," Alec said to Isabelle. "They're really okay, I promise." He looked over at Max. "Show her," he said, gesturing to the back of his neck.  
  
Max opened her mouth to object, shut it again, and reluctantly swept her hair aside to reveal her barcode for a moment. Then she turned back to Isabelle. "See?"  
  
Isabelle glared a moment longer, then after an encouraging nod from Alec, lifted her own hair. There it was, plain as Max's. The barcode. Grace saw Max and Logan exchange glances. Max said gently,  
  
"Is that what your parents want to do? Scrape off that tattoo?"  
  
"That's part of it," Isabelle answered in a low voice.  
  
"What's the rest?"  
  
Isabelle looked in appeal at the four adults. Alec shrugged slightly at Max. Whatever "the rest" was, he didn't seem to know either.  
  
With a loud sigh Isabelle turned her back on them. At first Grace thought she meant to walk out of the room, but instead the girl unbuttoned her shirt, slid it off her shoulders, and dropped it to the ground. Logan raised his eyebrows at Alec. Alec shrugged again, innocent.   
  
There was no bra strap across Isabelle's back and a moment later Grace saw why: a hump of skin extended from between her shoulder blades nearly to her waist. Then, without warning, there was a whooshing noise and Grace saw moving bright color. Isabelle stood before them with a small but perfect pair of butterfly wings, brilliant blue and green, fluttering gently from her back.   
  
"Jesus!" said Alec admiringly.  
  
Max smacked his arm. "Where'd you learn to talk like that?" she hissed, with a nod in Grace's direction. Alec rolled his eyes.  
  
"I told you, Common Verbal Usage. Sorry," he said to Grace, insincerely. Isabelle gave another loud sigh.  
  
"Am I through now?" she demanded. Logan pointed silently. Isabelle happened to be standing in a direct line to the windows -- in other words, in full view of half of Sector Nine. Max said hurriedly,  
  
"Thanks, Isabelle. Uh, why don't you put your shirt back on and go on in the other room, watch TV or something for a few minutes?" Grace quickly stepped forward and picked up Isabelle's shirt, handing it to her. Logan was looking anywhere but at Isabelle. Alec was leaning jauntily against the counter, grinning. As Isabelle left the room Max shot him a look of disgust.  
  
"I can't believe you," she began.  
  
"Aw, come on, Maxie, you gotta admit it's kind of hot," he said.  
  
"Ever come across this term in Common Verbal Usage -- 'statutory rape'? Stay away from her!"  
  
Logan interposed, "Does either of you two have any idea what she might have been designed for? What military purpose that might serve?"  
  
"I never saw anything like that," Max said.   
  
Alec shrugged. "Rumor had it they tried to put together an airborne division. Never got off the ground, though." He grinned at his own joke, pleased. No one else smiled.  
  
Logan nodded. "It certainly doesn't look very practical. And the question still remains, how did she get from there to here?"  
  
Max looked thoughtfully at Grace. "You told me there's a doctor at Metro Medical who's been arranging adoptions for years."  
  
"Conections to Manticore, maybe? A pipeline for failed experiments, or maybe just anyone who was willing to smuggle out some DNA for a nice profit?" Logan speculated before Grace could answer.  
  
"Whatever," Max said. "We have to get her back right away."  
  
"Ah, hold on there, Max. No we don't," said Alec. "Her parents are forcing her to have those things surgically removed, and she doesn't want it."  
  
"She's a minor," Logan said. "It's their call."  
  
Alec rolled his eyes and turned to Max. "Come on, Max. She's one of us. Are we going to let a couple of ordinary people force her to become, you know, ordinary? That's not what Isabelle wants."  
  
"Oh, please --"  
  
"Look, every transgenic in the Metro area's been through here at one point or another." He nodded at Logan. "Let him do his paper-shuffling thing, we'll head her up to Canada, she'll be free. What's the harm in that?"  
  
"What part of 'she's underage' don't you understand?" Max snapped.  
  
"What's your problem with that? It didn't stop you from sending that gang of kids over the border a few months ago."  
  
"That was different," Max said. "They were trained soldiers. They knew who they were. This kid doesn't have a clue how to take care of herself out there."  
  
"You seem to like all this maternal stuff. So mother her."  
  
"I'm not a babysitter -- " Max began, when a loud beeping rang through the apartment. "What's that?" she said.  
  
"Got something in the oven again?" Alec asked Logan with a smirk.  
  
"That's not the oven ... " Logan didn't bother finishing his sentence. A second later Max said, "Oh, shit!" and hurried down the hall right behind Logan.   
  
"Come on," said Alec to Grace in a resigned, bored tone. Then Grace heard Logan practically shouting, "What did you do?" That got Alec's attention. He left the kitchen, looking very interested, and by default Grace trailed him. Following the action from room to room seemed to be about all she could do tonight.  
  
In the office, Logan was frantically working his computer keyboard. Warning screens flashed on the monitors, the beeping continued unabated, and Max was asking Isabelle urgently, "Can you tell us what happened?"  
  
Isabelle backed away from the desk. "I was just trying to get online and say hi to my friends! My parents won't let me talk to them and it's so boring here --"  
  
"What exactly did you do?" Logan snapped over his shoulder.  
  
"Just clicked that button there ... " Isabelle sniffled once and then began to cry in earnest. Grace could see Max stifling the impulse to grab the girl by the shoulders and shake an explanation out of her; Logan's panic was clearly panicking Max. Grace had never seen Max so close to losing her cool.  
  
And then all the beeping and flashing stopped. Logan relaxed visibly, and so did Max.  
  
"You just about brought down an entire network of computers. Please don't touch anything else, all right?" Logan said to Isabelle in a voice that managed to be very patient and very threatening at the same time. That only made Isabelle cry harder; Alec took her by the arm and escorted her back to the living room, murmuring sympathetically.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, and hating the idea of staying in the office with Max and Logan, Grace found a box of tissues, which she carried wordlessly to Alec. There was much crying and nose-blowing until Max appeared. She sat down next to Isabelle, clearly making an effort to be reassuring. "It's okay now," she said comfortingly.  
  
"Is he always that uptight?" Isabelle sniffled, giving her nose a last swipe.  
  
"No," objected Max, clearly insulted.  
  
"Oh yeah, 'fraid so," Alec said knowingly. Isabelle giggled. Max rolled her eyes.  
  
"Isabelle, you know you have to go back to your parents," she began. Instantly the smile vanished.  
  
"No," she said emphatically.  
  
"I don't want to have to make you go," said Max, trying to be reasonable. Isabelle's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Try and make me," she announced. "I'll scream for a cop and make sure everybody in this sector hears that he took me out of the hospital and you've been talking about statutory rape and --"  
  
Now for the first time Alec began to look alarmed. "Now just relax there a second," he said to Isabelle, nodding Max out of the room. Grace moved away, pretending to look at the bookshelf. Let Alec work this one out.  
  
"Sorry about all this," she heard Max apologizing to Logan in the office. She tried to move out of earshot but Alec waved her off fiercely. Reluctantly Grace stopped. She was trapped, and worse, she could still hear Max and Logan.  
  
"I have an appointment in twenty minutes," Logan was saying. He didn't sound happy at all. "I could cancel it and stay here to make sure I still have an informant net at the end of the day --"  
  
"I'm sorry," Max said again, miserably.  
  
" -- and then trade a few insults with brother Alec in there while I make Isabelle cry some more --"  
  
There was a short silence. Grace stole a look into the office, fearing the worst, and saw that Max was actually smiling. "And get my whole family pissed at you? No thanks," she was saying. Logan grinned back at her mischievously.  
  
"Seriously, I'll stay if you need me," he offered.  
  
"Seriously, don't worry about it, " Max returned. "I haven't even figured out what to do next. You go." She began to pace, quickly lost in thought.  
  
"Hey."   
  
Max stopped. "What?"  
  
"I don't want to say too much, but ... if tonight works out, it could lead to some good things. For both of us."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Good. 'Cause I have a feeling I'm gonna need some good news by the time tonight's over."  
  
"Speaking of tonight --" Grace saw Logan reach into a drawer and pull out a cell phone. He tossed it to Max, who caught it neatly. "That's strictly a loaner, so take good care of it. But with both of us out and about, staying in touch on coms doesn't quite work any more, does it?"  
  
Their eyes met for a long moment. "No," said Max softly. She held the phone up for a moment, clasping it as if it were someone's hand. Again, Grace felt something almost tangible pass between them. Then Max put the phone gently into her jacket and turned away.  
  
"Good luck," Logan called after her as he picked up his own jacket and keys.  
  
"Later," Max called over her shoulder.  
  
No kiss goodbye? I guess not, with all the company they've got tonight, Grace thought, turning away quickly as Logan left the apartment.   
  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
Back in the car again, Logan realized that there was a message on his cell phone. He hadn't turned it off but the call must have come in during all the commotion over the computers. Sure enough, it was Julie again, and "Returning your call" was all it said. He tried right away to call back but there was no answer. He didn't bother leaving a message. He was already halfway to the bar where they had agreed to meet. If she there, fine; if not, he would track her down tomorrow.   
  
He sighed. It wasn't like him to be so sloppy. That's what you get when you're only half in the game, he told himself. When you want to believe you've got your mind on business but your heart is so full of Max that your heart is really all you're thinking about. He was glad he had made her laugh before they went their separate ways. Some days, nothing got through to her. Not even being able to get her to crack a smile -- he hated that.  
  
But back to business. At a light, he glanced at the passenger seat to be sure he had brought the envelope he had agreed to give Julie. Most of it was standard stuff, notes he'd taken and tips from informants about the organ-smuggling ring. There was only one really valuable bit in the whole envelope as far as he was concerned -- the address where Max and Alec had found Zack during his brief stay with the Steelheads. So far, Julie had only been able to meet them when they chose to contact her. Now she would know how to find them. Logan knew she wouldn't tip off the cops; it would ruin her book if they were all hauled off to prison. Julie needed them right there in their own little world, undisturbed.  
  
And in exchange for this address Julie was going to give him something equally valuable: the names of those contacts, and phone numbers. For the first time since Eyes Only had begun to investigate the Steelheads, he would have direct access.   
  
Except that somewhere in the last month or two, the investigation had stopped being about Eyes Only and started being about himself. And Max. About them.  
  
That was when it had started, after that day in Sam Carr's office. When Sam had admired the Manticore technology that kept Zack alive and restored his damaged brain and body. When Zack kept talking about "the machine" that had cleaned his blood. Suddenly, the possibilities overwhelmed Logan, and his hopes rose wildly. If he could only get his hands on something, anything. A lead back to the Manticore techs who must have sold them Zack on the black market. Any of their other contacts. Maybe, just maybe, even "the machine" itself.  
  
If it could filter nanocytes from Zack's blood, what else could it filter? Retroviruses, maybe?  
  
It was a long shot, for sure, and he didn't have a clear plan, not yet. Somewhere in the back of his mind an idea lurked, inspired by his trip to the VA office that day with Asha. If he could use the wheelchair to fake being a vet, what could he use the exo for? Who could he pretend to be? A wealthy man searching for parts or better technology? A Steelhead wannabe, maybe? He didn't know. First he needed to get his hands on these names, and then he'd figure the rest out.  
  
When he walked into the bar and didn't see Julie anywhere, he nearly walked out. Damn. Then he noticed a woman waving at him from a corner booth. Kara Bennett, the Channel 3 reporter. What was she doing here? Cautiously he approached the table. The last thing he needed right now was a reporter poking into his business, but it would be even worse to ignore a colleague. That would really make her curious.  
  
As he approached the table he saw that she looked surprised. But it wasn't until she said, "Hi, Logan, you're looking, ah, well," that he realized she had last seen him in the wheelchair. That annoyed him. He didn't want to get caught up in a lot of explanations.   
  
"Oh. Thanks. My health is improving." That was right, keep it short and simple. "Well, nice to see you. I was going to meet someone here but --"  
  
"I know," Kara said. "Julie Cheng. She tried to contact you a couple of times. She was called out of town and asked me to meet you here." She held up a manila envelope.  
  
"Ah. I didn't realize you two knew each other." Logan sat down. Something about this bothered him, but he wasn't quite sure what.  
  
"Oh, we're old friends," Kara said lightly. "This is for you," she added, passing the envelope across the table, "and you have something for me?"  
  
"Right here." Logan handed over his own envelope, a bit reluctantly. "Listen, do you know when Julie will be back in town? Not that I'm not glad to get this, but I was hoping to speak to her too."  
  
"She'll be back Monday. Give her a call." Kara slid the envelope in her bag and stood. "Well, it was nice to see you again. Thanks a lot. I've got to get back to the station now," she said, in a tone that suggested she was relieved to end the conversation.   
  
"You're welcome," he said, and with a quick nod she left the bar.  
  
He started to open his envelope, and then, realizing that the uneasy feeling was stronger than ever, impulsively stuffed it in his jacket and left the bar. A car, with Kara Bennett at the wheel, was heading for the parking lot exit. As he walked back to his own car, he saw her stop, then make a right turn into traffic.   
  
But the Channel 3 building was in the opposite direction. She should have turned left.   
  
As quickly as he could, he started the car, tossing the unopened envelope on the seat beside him. A quick right out of the parking lot and running a yellow light (well, red, really, but no cops were around) brought him one car behind Kara's. He settled back then, eyes on her license plate.  
  
He didn't know what she was up to, but he planned to find out. 


	7. Separate Ways

Max sat alone in Logan's office, missing him. For all the obvious reasons, and also because Logan was a great guy to have on your side in a crisis. Funny, she thought. Before, my big problem was getting him on my side to begin with. Lately he hasn't given me a hard time about my family at all and now I'm the one messing it up, worrying all the time about the freaking virus and screwing up and killing him accidentally.   
  
I could have used him tonight but it's better this way, she thought. This was the rule she lived by now: one moment of distraction was all it would take, one moment that could never be taken back, one moment that would change everything, forever. The work to be done tonight wasn't worth that kind of risk, not when there were other people to help. Let Grace figure out how to get this girl back where she belonged, and let Alec help her do it. She'd do whatever she could, but mostly she just wanted to get the girl the hell out of Logan's apartment as quickly as possible. It was one thing for Logan to help out now and then when a transgen was on the run, but this was different. This girl was famous and the last thing Max wanted was to bring the entire Metro police force down on either one of them.   
  
A few minutes ago she'd asked Alec what he thought of taking Isabelle to Joshua's. Not much, it turned out. "Bad idea, Maxie," he informed her. "Old Dog Boy would scare the sh -- " a look at Grace "-- I mean, scare her to death. You don't want her running home to tell Daddy about that."  
  
"Who's Joshua?" Grace asked.  
  
"Transgen. Canine DNA," Max said briefly before Alec could give some kind of smartass answer. She didn't feel like playing around right now.  
  
"Good luck getting her to go anywhere she doesn't want to go," Alec said. "She's untrained, but she's every bit as strong as you or me, and rich and spoiled rotten too." He disappeared into the kitchen, where Max heard him opening the refrigerator and offering Logan's food to Isabelle. That bugged her, but at least it would keep the pair of them busy for a few minutes.   
  
Oh, why can't someone else take care of this, she thought, longing to go home to that hot bath and a long phone call with Logan. A conversation she could enjoy with him safely on the other end of the phone instead of close by, way too close by, freaking her out every time he even looked in her direction.   
  
She didn't realize she had wished out loud until Grace said, "I have a suggestion."  
  
"What?" Oh God, she had completely forgotten that Grace was still sitting there, on the floor for some reason. She didn't like to think about Grace, which was why she did so as little as possible.  
  
"A suggestion. For what it's worth."   
  
"Sure, whatever," Max agreed, only half-listening.  
  
"Well," Grace began, "at the hospital, Psych has to deal with this sort of thing all the time. There are basically two approaches they use."  
  
"Which are?" Maybe she ought to pay attention. She certainly wasn't coming up with anything on her own.  
  
"Number one, force. Don't argue, just call the police. Report that you've got the missing girl. I know she threatened you but I'm here, right? Whatever she says, I just keep telling the cops that she's unstable. Hysterical. We take her right back to the hospital and it's all over."  
  
Max considered. It might work but she wasn't in the mood to roll the dice tonight. She shook her head. "No cops anywhere near this place."  
  
Grace nodded. "Okay, then. That leaves approach number two. Persuasion."  
  
"As in?" At Manticore, "persuasion" came in many forms, not all of them nice. As if reading her thoughts Grace said,   
  
"The nice kind and the not-so-nice kind. We play along a little bit, but at the same time we're backing her into a corner where she can't ignore the down side. Then we get someone she trusts to talk her out and back to Metro Medical where she belongs."  
  
They both looked down the hall to the kitchen. Isabelle sat on the table, looking at Alec with undisguised interest, laughing as she ate. Max nodded thoughtfully. She'd have to figure out the details, but something along those lines just might work. "Well," she said. "Maybe we'll be dropping by Joshua's house tonight after all."  
  
------------------------  
  
Later Kara told herself that she had started out the evening with only the best of intentions. All she meant to do was pick up one package, drop off the other, and get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. She didn't much want to go out, and she really didn't feel like dealing with Logan Cale, but Julie needed that favor. Later she decided that if Cale had just shown up in the wheelchair like she was expecting, nothing else would have happened. Not that it was his fault. It was just that seeing him on his feet took her by surprise, and made her reconsider what exactly might be in that envelope.  
  
The guy was supposed to be an investigative journalist, but come on, exactly how much investigation had he been doing stuck in a wheelchair? She had read some of his pieces a couple of years ago and they were pretty much what you'd expect, in her opinion: earnest and academic, abstract and a little dry, like a grad school paper based mostly on Internet research. Which was probably all he was really able to do.  
  
So Kara hadn't thought there would be much of anything useful in the envelope for Julie, nothing that couldn't have been emailed. Since the Pulse most Internet traffic had been either too unstable or too easy to hack; nobody used it for information that needed to be secure. When information came on paper, these days, it meant something. Something other people weren't supposed to see. Maybe this guy had started to do some real investigation after his health improved.  
  
And that was why, after she got back in her car and got the heat running, Kara slipped open the envelope with Julie's name on it and looked.  
  
At first, in the pinkish glow of the parking lot lights, she could hardly read anything. She flipped through the pages quickly, scanning, already feeling a little ashamed of herself for poking into Julie's business. And then she saw the page with the address and the directions. Suddenly she was excited. Could this be what Julie had been searching for, the location of the Steelhead hangout? Before she really had time to think over what she was about to do, she was pulling out of the parking lot and heading out of the sector.   
  
She had a pretty good idea where the address was. Of course it was night and she was alone, but she wasn't going to get out of the car or anything. She was just going to take a look, see if there was anything to see. She even stopped for some takeout coffee just in case she ended up sitting in the car for a while and needed to stay awake.  
  
There wasn't much of anything going on when she reached the street. She managed to squeeze the car into a tight space without scraping any paint, though God help her if she had to get out of there in a hurry.   
  
And then she sat. For a long time.  
  
At first she was excited and alert, but as the minutes passed, the car got colder, and nothing moved on the street except for the occasional rat digging through garbage, she started to get bored. She didn't even realize she had fallen asleep until she jerked awake suddenly, her neck stiff and the side of her mouth damp with drool. Wiping it away, she took a sip of the coffee. Ice cold. "Yuck," she said to herself, hoarsely. Time to get out of here.   
  
Another cup of coffee before the long drive across town wouldn't be a bad idea. Kara remembered seeing an all-night grocery at the end of the block. There was absolutely no one around. How dangerous could it be to run down there, grab another cup, and head on home to start packing? Not very, she congratulated herself five minutes later, walking back up the block to her car with the steaming coffee burning her hand -- and still not a soul around.  
  
And then she heard them. Steelheads, three of them, weaving drunkely around the corner and down the street, singing at the top of their lungs.  
  
Fortunately, in their condition, they hadn't seen her. Frantically she looked around for a place to hide. There was a dark alleyway just a few feet ahead of her, the kind of place that normally gave her the creeps, but if she wanted to keep watching it was her only choice. Bending low behind a dumpster, she scooted into the alley. It stank of garbage and urine and she felt broken glass crunching underfoot, but she had a clear view of the loud procession coming down the street right towards her. She was fascinated. She hoped they got good and close so she could look at all that glittering metal.  
  
And then someone behind her said quietly, "What are you doing here?"  
  
---------------------  
  
The group of four looked just like any friends out for an evening's fun. The attractive couple: the blond girl holding the cute guy's arm possessively. The single friends: the energetic dark-haired girl and the quiet brown-haired one following a few steps behind. Only if you looked closely could you see signs of conflict and frustration as the four made their way past bars and nightclubs. Max, Grace, Alec, and Isabelle were on their way to Joshua's house.  
  
They couldn't argue openly on the street, which was a relief to Grace, considering the number of ugly things that had been said back at Logan's apartment when Max put her plan into action. The plan itself was simple: take Isabelle to Joshua's. Let her get cold, tired, hungry, bored, and maybe even scared. Then have Alec gently convince her that returning to Metro Medical would solve all of these problems. Alec and Max would get her as far as the door, after which Grace would bring her back upstairs. Grace wasn't sure how she felt about handling the cover story all alone, but Max looked at her in amusement when she brought that up.  
  
"Are you kidding?" she asked. "You lie all the time. You're pretty good at it too, otherwise I wouldn't let you do it."   
  
Grace didn't have an answer for that, unlike Alec who laughed scornfully when Max summoned him to the office.   
  
"You're obviously not listening to me," he said. He turned to Grace. "Did I not just make myself clear about this fifteen minutes ago? She doesn't want to go. Have I not said 'no' to this already?" This with a lot of exaggerated gesturing. Then, turning back to Max: "What am I missing here? Aren't you the champion of every downtrodden transgenic in the state of Washington? But you don't want this one to be happy?"  
  
"She's not downtrodden. She's a spoiled rich kid who needs to go home to her parents," Max began.  
  
"What's this really about, huh?" For some reason Alec was beginning to get angry, Grace saw. "It's about her, isn't it?" He jerked his head towards Grace. "You don't want her anywhere near your man. Not that I blame you, considering," he added. "But you know, if you would just let nature take its course, it would sure make life simpler for all of us."  
  
"What's that mean?" Max demanded. She was beginning to sound pretty angry too.  
  
"Aw, come on. Do I have to spell it out for you?" He looked at Grace and back at Max. Meaningfully, except that Grace had no idea what he meant.  
  
"Apparently you do," Max returned, eyes narrowed.  
  
"Fine. Why don't you just accept the way things are? Let her have him. Let them read their boring books together and live their ordinary lives together and just stop all this melodrama and angst about the --"  
  
"Shut up." Grace had never heard Max so coldly angry. "Just shut up!" She advanced towards Alec. "Here's the way things are. You are going to help us get her to Joshua's house or I will call the police and tell them you kidnapped her. And Grace will back me up every step of the way. Do you really want to see whether the cops will take your word against a chaplain's?"  
  
For a moment Grace thought Alec would keep pushing it. Then he gave in, ungraciously. "I'm warning you, you won't get anywhere with her," he said, pointing towards the kitchen.  
  
But Max did. She told Alec to bring Isabelle to the office. This time, instead of "sucking up" to Isabelle (as she explained it to Grace) she was commanding, decisive. "Sit down, all of you. There's not much time," she said dramatically. "The longer we stay here, the more danger we're in. We've got to move, and move now."  
  
"Where are we going?" Isabelle demanded. "Cause I'm not going back to that hospital."  
  
"No, you're not," Max agreed. "We're all going to another place. It's safe there. Much safer than it is here," she added confidentially.  
  
Isabelle argued. Logan's place was nice, even if he was stricter than her parents. Max was firm. Isabelle got upset. She cried. She called Grace a spy and Max a control freak, and finally, a bitch. Max repeated her dire warnings. Finally Isabelle's fear got the better of her snobbery and she agreed to cooperate. Grace actually heard Max breathe a sigh of relief as they closed the apartment door and stepped into the elevator.   
  
Amen to that, Grace thought. It had to get better now.  
  
For a while, it did. No one spoke during the long walk, except once when Max said to Grace,  
  
"Sorry about that, before."  
  
Why is she apologizing for him? Grace wondered. "What's he so angry about?" she asked.   
  
"Dunno, and, don't really care," replied Max.   
  
"Ummm ..." Grace hesistated. She wasn't really sure she wanted the answer to this question, but she couldn't stop thinking about it either. "What was that stuff he said about my books?" she finally asked.  
  
Max looked at her. "You know you were watched over the summer."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"He searched your apartment on orders from Manticore. And your office."  
  
"You said that was you."  
  
"I lied," Max said cheerfully.  
  
"Oh," Grace answered, and that was the last thing anyone said until they reached Joshua's.  
  
"Transgen. Canine DNA" didn't begin to describe the giant shaggy creature who answered their knock. Isabelle, as predicted, was terrified, which Joshua didn't help any by hovering anxiously around her, trying to make friends. Finally Max lured him out of the living room while Alec calmed Isabelle's fears. Grace was too tired at that point to know how she felt about him, or Isabelle either for that matter. Something to think about later, she promised herself.  
  
Eventually Isabelle relaxed enough to pout about the dust and the lack of amenities and not having anything to do, until Max went out and got her some chips and soda and a couple of magazines. At that point a minor miracle occurred, when Isabelle discovered that Joshua was fascinated by celebrity photos and even more enthralled when she began telling him stories about the celebrities her father knew. "More downlow, please," he would request every time Isabelle stopped for breath. Finally, satisfied, Max nodded at Grace.  
  
"Come on, let's get out of here," she said, and they headed for the front door. They were two steps behind Alec.  
  
"Where are you going?" Max demanded.  
  
"Home," Alec said, reaching for the doorknob.  
  
"Oh no you're not. Someone's got to stay here with those two tonight or she'll walk all over him."  
  
"You do it."  
  
"Can't. Normal asked me to work tomorrow morning and I need the money, since someone whose name I won't mention blew all my cash --"  
  
"Fine." Alec was clearly annoyed. "Have a nice evening. Hot shower, good night's sleep. Or are you headed back to Sector 9 to make sure a certain journalist doesn't hook up with his old girlfriend again?"  
  
"Girlfriend?" Grace hadn't heard Joshua leave the other room, but now he stood there at the door, towering over them in a slightly threatening way.   
  
Alec said carelessly, "Yeah, Grace here is an old girlfriend of Logan's --"  
  
"Girlfriend?" roared Joshua. The last half-hour with Isabelle had made the meaning of that word perfectly plain to him. Before anyone could stop him he pushed Grace back against the wall, shouting, "Grace and Logan! That's not the plan!"  
  
"Joshua!" Max called sharply, and he stopped pushing, though he didn't let go. "It's okay," she said soothingly. "Grace is our friend. Grace knows what the plan is. Right, Grace?" Behind Joshua's back she raised her eyebrows, mouthing something. It took Grace a second or two to realize Max was saying her own name.  
  
"The plan," Grace said breathlessly. "Uh, Max and Logan, that's the plan." Max nodded approvingly. Alec rolled his eyes.  
  
"Yes," said Joshua fiercely. "Max and Logan, that's the plan." Emphasis on the "Max." He released Grace but he was watching her every move.  
  
"Grace, you go on, " Max said. "I'll meet you here at noon tomorrow when I get off work, okay?"  
  
Gratefully, Grace let herself back out into the quiet dark night. 


	8. Rear Windows

A/N: For those of you who have asked, yes, this will head back to Grace and all come together in the end! Susan_K, thanks for your comment on the last chapter. If you email me I'd love to discuss it more.  
  
---------------------  
  
Kara's heart stopped momentarily when the voice said, "What are you doing here?"   
  
A few breathless seconds was all it took her to realize that Logan Cale was also hiding in the alley. She resumed breathing, eyes riveted on the approaching trio. "Shhhh, they're coming," she silenced him.  
  
Down the street they wobbled, drunk, loud, and careless, pounding on cars, kicking garbage, shouting. The closer they got the better Kara could see the wild variety of studs and plates covering their faces and bodies, especially the curved metal spikes extending from the girl's head. For a thrilling moment she thought they were going to walk right past her, but at the last second they turned and stumbled up a short flight of steps, disappearing with a final howl into the building Kara was leaning against. The street was silent again.  
  
"Looks like the show's over. What do you say we get out of here and go talk about this somewhere?" Cale said in her ear.  
  
Kara had no intention of leaving. Ignoring him, she turned to look into the darkness of the alley. Sometimes, in these old neighborhoods, the narrow passageways between buildings led to inner courtyards or even alleyways that ran parallel to the street. She might be able to see or even get into the Steelhead building from the rear. "Hang on, I'll be right back," she whispered, and disappeared into the blackness.  
  
Logan leaned back against the brick wall of the adjoining building to wait. It was one thing for him to duck quickly into a dark spot and hope there wasn't anything he was going to trip over, and another thing entirely to go exploring down a pitch-black passageway full of broken glass and worse. What he really wanted to know was how she had ended up here tonight, and why. And that he could do without risking his neck in some filthy alley.  
  
The crunching stopped and he heard an echoing metallic rattle, followed by silence, then the rattle and the crunch again. Kara materialized beside him, breathless. "I found it. Come on," she announced.  
  
"No thanks," Logan refused. "Now let's --"  
  
"Come on!" Kara was emphatic. "This leads back behind the building. They're in the rear and you can see everything. Hurry up!"  
  
Logan hesisated. A fall in the dark, besides cutting his butt to ribbons, might damage the exo beyond repair, or at least beyond his current means to repair it. Still, the thought of looking directly into the Steelheads' windows -- and what he might see there -- made his heart jump so hard it hurt. Screw it, he thought. Impetuous Kara would be only too glad to lead the way. If he followed her carefully he would probably be all right. He could just do a little reconnaissance and come back in daylight. Or with a flashlight at least.  
  
"All right," he said, and Kara immediately moved down the alley, Logan following close behind. His heart was pounding and his palms began to sweat. He focused every bit of his concentration on the back of Kara's head. The passageway seemed to go on forever.  
  
Finally, a dim opening began to appear before them. "Going down," Kara hissed, and they descended a set of metal steps that was more like a ladder than a stairway. But he was more confident now, because they had reached an inner alley, where light shining from various windows gave enough illumination for him to see his feet. At the bottom of the steps Kara stopped and pointed behind them. "There," she said.  
  
There in two huge, brightly lit windows were the Steelheads -- or rather, the heads of the Steelheads. Logan and Kara were now below ground level, so that even ground-floor windows were above their heads. What Logan could see was mostly a peeling ceiling and the occasional flash of the Steelhead girl's silver hair.   
  
"Not much of a view," he commented.  
  
"Just a minute." Kara pointed across the alley. The building directly behind them was mostly dark, with only a few windows lit by dim, flickering light. Squatters with candles, Logan realized. The building had no power.   
  
Directly across from them, well above their heads, were two dark, yawning holes. Open windows. Kara waved at them in triumph.  
  
"How are we going to get up there?" Logan asked.  
  
"Look." With a cautious glance at the Steelhead windows, Kara pulled him a few steps down the alley, where the remains of a rusted fire escape lay tangled. The pull-down ladder that would have reached from the second floor to the ground lay a few feet away. "If we prop this up against the side of the building, we can climb right in that window," she said confidently.  
  
He had to be crazy, he had to be completely out of his mind, but he helped her drag the ladder over to the window and prop it up, then held it in place while she climbed on.  
  
"Hand me that coffee," she whispered, pointing at the spot where she had placed her cup. "Might be a long night."  
  
She went right up, set the cup on the windowsill, hoisted herself over. A moment later her head appeared in the window. "No one here. Come on up," she called quietly, steadying the top of the ladder.   
  
The climb up didn't bother him nearly as much as the walk down the alley had. He could see his feet, and once at the top he used his upper body to lift himself up over the sill and down into the dark apartment. Still, he wished Max was there. She would have been a hundred times more skilled at this than he ever would have been, even under the best of circumstances.  
  
They caught their breath for a moment and then, keeping to the shadows, looked out into the Steelheads' lair. The party continued unabated. Logan wasted little time on it, instead scanning the rooms for signs of "the machine" that had haunted his thoughts for weeks now. Though the space across the alley was brightly lit, it was too far away to see much detail. When he came back he would bring binoculars.  
  
Then something scraped behind them. Alert, Kara asked, "What's that?"   
  
They both turned, fearing that whoever called this place home was returning, but instead all they saw was two eyes gleaming in the dark. "Alley cat," Logan said, and with that the eyes winked out.  
  
"Whew," said Kara, turning back to the window.  
  
Logan did the same, and then it happened. There was a horrible yowling sound and something bumped his arm, hard. He saw a flash of sooty yellow on the windowsill and heard Kara exclaim, "Shit!" There was a loud scrape of metal on brick and she dived towards the window. Suddenly he understood. He must have stepped on the cat's tail, and now the cat in its panic was knocking down their ladder. He lunged for Kara, grabbed her around the waist, and hung on while she groped desperately out the window. Too late. There was a deafening metallic clang as the ladder hit the cement alley floor.  
  
"Shit!" Kara cried again. Logan let go of her and she slid back into the room, ducking into the shadows. "Damn cat -- oh my God, are you all right?" she cried.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The coffee! I spilled it on you! Did it burn you?"  
  
Now he noticed the strong smell of coffee in the air. He quickly ran his hand down his legs, and sure enough, the right leg was warm and wet. Well, he wasn't about to drop his pants and check for burns in front of her.  
  
"I'm fine," he said, hoping it was true. "Must have cooled off."  
  
"Are you sure -- hey!" she interrupted herself. Her attention was back on the windows across the alley. "They're going somewhere!" she announced, and before he could reply she was stumbling through the dark room, away from the window. "If there's another window over here --" he heard her mutter, and briefly saw her silhouetted against a doorway leading to another room. Then the doorway was empty.  
  
He took advantage of her absence to quickly check his leg. It seemed all right. Then his fingers touched his pocket, where he'd hurriedly stashed his cell phone before leaving the car. The phone was damp and sticky. Milk and sugar in the coffee, no doubt. He pulled it out and tried to get a signal. Nothing. Damn.  
  
Another flurry of banging and clattering came from the next room, and then Kara's voice: "Come here! You won't believe this!"  
  
He tried to step forward, heard the high-pitched whine, sensed the resistance. Great. The coffee must have shorted out the main servomotor at the hip. He knew what was going to happen next.   
  
From the other room Kara called impatiently, "What's keeping you? Get your ass in gear, will ya?"  
  
There was a crackling noise and a burned smell, and then he began to pitch forward, the way you did when you were roller skating and hit an unexpected bump. Fortunately he was still close to the window, and by throwing his right arm backwards and aiming for the windowsill, he was able to break the fall somewhat. Landing made his teeth jar, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He'd bitten his tongue. Scraped his hand, too. Logan sighed. Unfortunately, his ass wasn't going to be in any kind of gear right at the moment.   
  
"What was that?" Kara called in alarm from the other room.  
  
"I tripped," he replied, rubbing his sore hand.   
  
"Too late anyway. You missed it." He heard her coming back. He'd have to explain this new development to her eventually, but first he wanted to know exactly how much trouble they were in.   
  
"Is there a front door to this place?" he asked.  
  
More sounds, this time rattling, and Kara finally reappeared. "Must be padlocked shut from the outside," she said, running a hand through her hair. "Well, it's okay. I'll just call someone from the station to come and crowbar us out of here -- hmmmm." She stopped.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Can't find my phone. I know I brought it from the car -- oh no."  
  
"What?"  
  
Kara rushed to the window, looked down, and smacked her fist on the windowsill. "Dammit, my freaking phone's down there! Must have fallen out of my jacket when I was trying to get the ladder." She grimaced. "Okay, no big deal, give me your phone, or do you have a friend we can call?"  
  
Logan allowed himself a moment to imagine just what Max would say if he called her right now. Then, wordlessly, he held up his phone in the dim shaft of light coming through the window. Coffee dripped from it. Kara's eyes widened.  
  
"Are you kidding me? We're stuck in here with no phones and no way out?"  
  
"Yes, and there's something else you should know," he began. "I can't walk."  
  
"What do you mean? Did you hurt yourself falling?"  
  
"No. My legs are paralyzed --"  
  
"What?" She was incredulous. "Ten minutes ago you climbed a ladder, so what the hell are you talking about?"  
  
He explained. By the time he finished, she looked like she was ready to tear the front door off the hinges herself. "This just sucks," she groaned. "What the hell are we gonna do?" It was more of a rhetorical question than anything else, but he answered it.  
  
"We're going spend a lot of time watching Steelheads tonight," he said. 


	9. When The Morning Comes

Grace went home and fell into bed, too exhausted to move but wide-awake all the same. The last twenty-four hours were a blur of random details flashing through her mind: the blinding lights of the cameras at the news conference, the smell of Logan's coffee at the diner, Max and Alec arguing, Isabelle undressing in Logan's kitchen, the crazy beeping of the computers, the freckles on Joshua's snout. Joshua's snout, for that matter.   
  
She remembered this feeling from her night on the mountain with Max. The adrenaline rush that kept you going, kept you focused until everything else in the world fell away -- every thought, every feeling, anything in you that might have wondered what you were doing and why you were doing it. Until you were all about action. That was how she had been in at Logan's apartment, and how she was now, here alone in the dark.  
  
It was shock, she knew. It made you numb, which she had been most of the time she was in Logan's apartment. She could hardly remember getting home.  
  
But after a while, the quiet began to calm her. Gradually her breathing slowed, her heart stopped pounding, and the frantic scenes replaying in her head wound down.   
  
Now that she had some control over her thoughts, she tried to reflect. All evening she had kept expecting to have some kind of reaction to what she was seeing -- Isabelle's wings, Joshua's canine features -- but after a momentary wonder, she had accepted the transgenics without much thought. For all their strange appearance, their behavior hadn't been freakish at all. It had been very human.   
  
And the truth was, it was harder, much harder, for her to accept that human nature than it was for her to accept a snouted face or a permanent barcode.   
  
Or a wheelchair, for that matter.   
  
Now the memory she had kept at a distance all evening came into her mind. This time she didn't push it away. She saw, once again, Max and Logan walking down the hallway. Together.   
  
At first just thinking about it hurt like crazy. It felt like it had all happened at once, as if the conversation in the diner had ended with Max and Logan walking away from her, already completely caught up in each other, while Grace sat forgotten. Suddenly her heart was pounding again and she could hardly catch her breath. It wasn't fair! For that few weeks over the summer it had seemed so easy. Do good, and the universe was good to you. Except that ever since then the universe seemed to be taking a lot of pleasure in slapping her around. If some special destiny really had brought Max and Logan back into her life, or her into theirs, destiny certainly didn't feel obligated to make it any fun for her.   
  
In what way did she deserve this? She had done the right thing -- set aside her own feelings, bent over backwards to help Max. So why wouldn't the universe leave her alone? Why was she mixed up in their lives again? Just to have the truth shoved in her face?   
  
But she didn't cry. She was too angry.  
  
Of course she had always known he loved Max. That something terrible weighed on his heart had been plain from the moment he opened his eyes in the hospital bed, even though she hadn't known then what it was. And he had finally told her the story, or at least the part of it that mattered, even before they were together. Oh yes, Max had always been with them. But until today Grace had always believed that they were all in it together, all victims of bizarre circumstance. Never had it crossed her mind that Logan might use her, or deliberately expose her to hurt.  
  
But he had. So why wouldn't her own heart leave her alone?  
  
Because she loved him. She knew that now.  
  
How could she have not seen it, all these months?  
  
Some part of her heart always had known, she thought, remembering again that morning in the hospital. "Where am I? What happened to me?" Those were usually the first two questions a person asked, waking up in a hospital. But not Logan. All he had cared about was the last thing he remembered, holding Max in his arms.   
  
That had been the beginning for her. Even when she had pretended otherwise, her thoughts had hardly ever left him since then. She had been drawn to him from the start. What was it Bling had said? "He's got a way of making you care about him."   
  
She remembered some dreams she'd had over the summer. All of them were about looking for Logan but never quite finding him -- knowing he was nearby but not where she could see him, seeing him across a room but with a crowd between them, hearing other people say he had just left the place where she was. At the time she had dismissed them as symbolic of Logan's closed, private nature. Now with a sudden thrill of recognition she saw the dreams in a different light. They had been about her too, and her reluctance to seek him out.   
  
Some part of her must have understood that revealing his secrets would threaten her.  
  
There it was, the irony. Would she ever have loved him so much if he hadn't loved Max first? Probably not. Because that was what she loved the most about him, the way he had seemed to find, somehow, some way, in spite of a permanently damaged body and a love lost forever, enough courage to go on for another day.   
  
What she had seen tonight, then, was only another aspect of his love.  
  
And what he had told her today ... well, every light had a shadow, and this was the shadow of his strength, that he would do whatever he had to do for Max's sake. Nothing personal, she told herself, in fact you should feel honored. It bothered him to do it, he said. He wouldn't have felt that way about just anyone.  
  
Still, that wasn't much comfort. Because now she understood, as she never had before, that she could love him all she wanted to, but he was never going to love her back. Had she allowed herself to get involved in this whole Isabelle affair expecting that gratitude and circumstance would somehow tie him to her, even if love could not? Well, she'd been quite mistaken about that. And it was long past time for a cold hard look at her situation.   
  
Feeling more lonely and foolish by the second, she thought over the last day. She was an embarassment to Max and Logan, Joshua hated her, Alec was laughing at her and her books, Isabelle thought she was a spy, and worst of all, she was now a conspirator in the disappearance of a thirteen-year-old girl. If Norris ever found out, she would be out of a job just like that.  
  
She wasn't going to be loved. She knew that now. But even as the ache of loss began to settle around her heart, she told herself: that doesn't mean you have to lose everything else. As exhaustion overtook her, she promised herself that come morning, she would begin to set things right.   
  
And then she finally slept.  
  
---------  
  
Kara Bennett woke as the first gray light of dawn filtered in through the empty windows. The moment she realized where she was, gloom descended on her. In her time she'd greeted the day in some pretty down-and-out places, but this was a winner. Good Christ, how could she have gotten herself into this mess? She'd gone through Julie's papers, trapped herself in this dump with no way out and no phone, and now on top of everything else she had this helpless guy on her hands. The thought of having to take care of him until they could be rescued made her skin crawl.   
  
She sat up and looked around. He was asleep, lying next to the wall under the window. The cell phone was beside him. Quietly she reached over and picked it up, hoping for a signal, but it was still dead. She watched him for a moment before replacing it. She had to admit he'd been a pretty good sport last night, hadn't complained at all or asked for any help, but still. How on earth was she going to get him out of here? Better yet, was there any way she could get out of getting him out of here?  
  
As if she had spoken aloud, he opened his eyes, cleared his throat. "Morning," he said, reaching for his glasses. "What do you say we get started figuring out how to get out of here?"  
  
Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that. "Sure," she said, and got up stiffly. Nothing like spending all night on your back on a hard floor. And then having to do all the work come morning.  
  
In daylight they could see that the place had been used by squatters, or worse, fairly recently. Whoever had padlocked it shut hadn't bothered to clean it out first, which was a good thing for them. Somewhere in all that trash had to be their means of escape.  
  
Kara found an old wooden kitchen chair with a splintered seat and part of the back missing, which she dragged over by the window where Logan still sat on the floor. It didn't look very comfortable, but if the guy couldn't feel his own butt, a busted seat couldn't make that much difference. Was she supposed to help him get up? she wondered apprehensively. And if so, exactly how did something like that work? But to her relief she never found out.  
  
"Thanks," he said in a tone that suggested he didn't need any assistance, and Kara headed for the other room as fast as she could. If he was about to struggle pathetically, she didn't want to see it.   
  
Half an hour later, with Logan sitting beside the window and Kara kneeling on the floor, they examined what she had been able to find. The most promising item was an old blanket, stained with something unidentifiable and probably repulsive. Though Kara didn't want to touch it again, she felt she had to say the obvious. "So we're all set. I'll just use this like a rope to climb down. It'll be just like a prison break in the movies."  
  
Logan wasn't as squeamish. He picked up the blanket and tested it. "I wouldn't want to count on this holding your weight. Hard to tell how old it is. But if we could find something to make a hook on the end, we could snag that ladder down there and pull it back up again. See anything that might do the job?"  
  
Kara found an old wire coat hanger buried under garbage in the corner of the other room. They unbent it, worked a hole in one end of the blanket, wrapped the wire through and around the hole, and finally made a hook at the other end of the hanger. They were both hungry and thirsty and time crawled. Logan wasn't much for chit-chat, but he did have a few pointed questions about the previous night.  
  
"So just what were you doing in that alley anyway?" he asked when they paused to rest their hands, which ached from the effort to bore a hole in the blanket.  
  
Kara sighed. "Nothing sinister, if that's what you're thinking. I was just curious." Would that satisfy him? Journalists were so nosy.  
  
It didn't. "Do you make a habit of reading other people's mail?" he asked.  
  
"No. But I'm a friend of Julie's."  
  
"Must be a very good friend."  
  
"You could say that. She's my girlfriend."  
  
"Ah. Then since you have a very personal interest here, you won't mind telling me whether you plan to expose our friends across the alley as soon as you're out of here?"  
  
Now why does he want to know that? she wondered. Does he want to get in on the action? No freaking way I'd share this story with him if I were going to do anything about it.   
  
Aloud, she said, "Unfortunately, no, I don't plan to do that. Not that I wouldn't love to, but that would mess Julie up. So they'll live to raise hell another day."  
  
That did seem to satisfy him. He didn't speak again until they were nearly finished, when he asked, "By the way, what were you looking at over there last night that was so exciting?"  
  
Kara blushed. In broad daylight she was embarrassed to admit the truth. "Ummm, well, they were doing it," she said finally.  
  
"You mean 'doing it' as in 'having sex'?"  
  
"Yup." She bent over the blanket to hide her face. God, she sounded like some kind of creepy voyeur.  
  
"Huh." Logan seemed amused. "That might have been worth seeing."  
  
"Yeah, except they fell off the bed or something, because I only saw them for a minute."  
  
"I see." Still looking amused, he twisted the wire a last time. "That ought to do it," he announced. "Ready to go fishing?"  
  
Kara stood, stretched, and glanced out of the window at a dismaying sight. "Oh, give me a freaking break!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"They're awake." She checked at her watch. Was it really noon already? Damn.   
  
"Looks like they're watching cartoons," Logan said. Sure enough, the Steelheads were sprawled on their couch with boxes of cereal and a carton of milk, bathed in multicolored flickers of light.  
  
"Guess we wait a while," he said philosophically.  
  
Kara hated it, but she had to agree. There was no way she was going to lean out of that window and fish for the ladder with Steelheads watching just a few feet away.  
  
--------------------------------  
  
Grace awoke early, far too early to meet Max. A long shower washed away the sleep but did nothing to ease her sore heart. She wasn't hungry. Finally she decided to stop by the hospital. She wanted to hear the latest.  
  
As she walked down the corridor a woman sitting near her door rose and turned towards her. It was Isabelle's mother, Grace saw. She tried to smile but her eyes were red and she clearly hadn't slept much. "No news," she said, sparing Grace the shame of pretending to be ignorant. Grace brought her into the office and offered to get her some coffee, but she shook her head.  
  
"I really need to get back upstairs in case ... well, you know, in case anything happens, but I just wanted to thank you for being so nice to us this last week. I know a lot of people think I'm a weirdo." She smiled. "Thank you for not making an issue of my religious beliefs. I don't understand how all this happened, I really don't. The doctor told us when we adopted her that she was special, genetically engineered, but that was what we'd always dreamed of, and he assured us that she was fine, just fine ... and now I just want to get her back." She began to cry. "I hope she's taking care of herself ... even when she was little she was such a fighter ..."  
  
Grace took her upstairs to her family.  
  
She had thought she couldn't feel any worse, but apparently she'd been wrong about that too. As she rode downstairs in the elevator she was completely ashamed of herself. Last night she had been a willing participant in hiding this woman's child because of her own needs and feelings. It was time to get Isabelle back to her parents. She left the hospital and went straight to Joshua's house. As soon as Max arrived she would leave with the girl.  
  
With the memory of last night fresh in her mind, she entered the silent house cautiously, expecting to see Isabelle asleep on the couch, or maybe the floor, near the fire that provided the only heat. Joshua was there, snoring, but there was no sign of Isabelle or Alec either. She tiptoed through the other rooms with growing apprehension. Then, with a last look at Joshua curled peacefully in front of the fire, she let herself out.  
  
There was no one else there. Isabelle had vanished. She had to find Max right away. 


	10. Max Needs a Break

Early Saturday morning, Reagan Ronald strode purposefully towards his place of business. Fine day, he thought, nodding with approval at the delivery truck drivers and shop owners who were already hard at work. They were entrepreneurs, like himself. He was very proud of the fact that he had recently begun Saturday morning deliveries (at a premium price of course). He could already see a profit after just a few weeks. And it was doing him good too, knowing that a man could sometimes take charge of his own destiny.  
  
Of course it was a bit of a management challenge to get his staff of deadbeats to show up after a Friday night of debauchery at Crush or Smash or whatever the place was called, but he preferred to think of that as an opportunity. After they'd drunk and smoked every last dime in their pockets, they were usually willing to come in and earn a few tips to finance their Saturday night fun. Even Max. She wasn't any more reliable than she'd ever been, but she was putting in the extra hours these days. Paying off that heart transplant, he supposed.  
  
Now who was that hanging around in front of the Jam Pony gate? he wondered as he approached. Impatient customer, or hooker too messed up to make her way back to whatever flea-ridden dump she called home? But it wasn't. It was Max.  
  
"Well, well. Speak of the devil and she will appear," he said, immediately suspicious. Max was generally incapable of arriving on time, let alone early.   
  
"Morning to you too, Normal," she said in her usual contemptous tone.  
  
"What's wrong? Lose your apartment keys? Fight with your boyfriend?" he asked.  
  
"Good job, Max. Thanks for getting to work on time," she continued in the same nasty voice, and then, as he unlocked the gate, "Look, just give me a package and I'll hit the road, all right?"  
  
He deliberately chose a delivery that would take her halfway across town and back, expecting her to complain. The kids usually hated the long ones -- too far for one lousy tip -- but to his surprise she accepted the envelope and immediately hopped on her bike.   
  
"Later," she said shortly, leaving him alone with his coffee. Which was a good thing.  
  
Max pedaled away relieved. She needed to be alone right now. She'd already turned off her beeper and phone, even though she hadn't heard from Logan last night. Probably out half the night on his secret mission, whatever it was, and sleeping in this morning. She'd buzz him when she got back to Jam Pony. For now, she needed a good long ride and some solitude to clear her head, because last night she'd had the Dream, and the Dream was a bitch.  
  
Nobody else knew about the Dream, not even Cindy. Cindy would call it a sex dream. "Just what goes through the mind of your average male once every six minutes," Max could hear her saying. But it wasn't that kind of sex dream. It was a seduction dream, and Logan was her seducer.  
  
The Dream had started when she was in prison at Manticore. She'd loved it then. It gave her hope, reminded her what she was fighting for. These days it made her flat-out crazy for a few hours and real cranky for days after that. Nothing like your own unconscious jerking your chain a little, she thought bitterly as the cold morning air blew in her face.   
  
No, it wasn't a sex dream. Sex was the word for what happened when she was in heat, for lust that cared only about satisfaction. This was different. She'd find herself someplace with Logan, sometimes in his apartment but it could be anywhere, really, once up on the Needle and once even at Jam Pony. She wouldn't be thinking that way at all, and then Logan would be there, giving her that look, the intense one that she couldn't look away from. And while she was staring into those eyes, he would touch her. Gently at first. Fingertips brushing her hand, her hair, her cheek. Her skin would tingle everywhere it met his. Slowly, tenderly, he would continue to touch her, drawing her closer, and finally, as his mouth met hers, her soul as well as her body would cry out with joy and anticipation. And then ... she'd wake up, and after a few breathless seconds, she'd remember the virus and her heart would come crashing down, leaving her nothing but a moody bitch for however long it took to get her mind on something else.  
  
That was why she was riding hard across town at this hour on a Saturday morning. Sublimating like there's no tomorrow, she told herself. Especially since she had business to take care of after work. After a night on Joshua's hard, dirty floor, wrapped in an old blanket with only the fire for warmth -- and no working toilet, either -- Isabelle should be feeling pretty sorry for herself. If Grace knew what she was talking about, a little gentle reasoning from Alec should have the girl back where she belonged before dark. Grace, too. And then, if she wasn't feeling too spun from the whole freaking day, maybe she could at least get that hot bath and that phone call she'd had to miss last night.  
  
----------------------  
  
It wasn't far from Joshua's to the hospital, so Grace went back to her office and tried to beep Max. Repeatedly, and with no luck. Maybe she wasn't allowed to take phone calls at work? No, that was stupid. How much good would a bike messenger be without a beeper? But after an hour passed and she could only reach Max's voicemail, she knew she had to try something else. Very reluctantly, she dialed Logan's number, which she had finally found at home. To her disappointment and relief, his phone was out of service. Maybe Max and Logan were together. After what Alec had said last night, Grace wouldn't be surprised if Max had an armed guard watching Logan's apartment.  
  
But now what was she supposed to do? With every second that went by, Isabelle's trail got colder. She needed to act, and now. Frustrated, she picked up the scrap of paper with Max's number on it, and then she saw it. Max had torn off a corner of a delivery ticket, and there was a printed address on the other side. Jam Pony Messenger Service, here I come, she decided, and left the hospital before she could change her mind.  
  
-------------------------------------------  
  
When Max rode up to Jam Pony the first thing she saw was Grace sitting on the curb like a kid with no friends. Well, his can't be anything good, she thought. Quickly stopping the bike she said, "What?"  
  
Grace stood. Max saw right away that she was in a very bad mood. "She's gone again," Grace said. "I went by the house, and she's gone. And so is Alec."  
  
Max hopped off her bike, resisting the temptation to give it a frustrated kick. This was the last thing she needed today, in her state of mind. "Damn him," she groaned. No telling what kind of trouble that girl would attract, on the loose in Seattle. As if she, Max, didn't have plenty of that already.  
  
"I hope you're not talking about me," a voice behind her said. Alec. How interesting.   
  
Both Grace and Max turned around. When he saw their faces he stopped. "Hey, before you jump all over me --"  
  
"As if either one of us would ever consider such a thing," Max said under her breath.  
  
Alec looked insulted. "Look, I didn't take her, and I don't know where she is. She was sleeping, I went out to pick up some breakfast, came back and she was gone."  
  
"You went OUT?" Max said incredulously.  
  
"I was hungry. You don't bring him much to eat," he told Max reproachfully. "Go yell at him if you're looking for someone to take it out on. He slept right through it. Not much watchdog in his cocktail, huh?"  
  
Max closed her eyes and gritted her teeth for a moment. She wanted to beat the crap out of him, but what would that solve? Instead she said, "We've got to split up and find her. We'll meet at Joshua's and figure out where --"  
  
"Whoa there." Alec held up a hand. "Max, what do you say we just let this go? It's going to take all afternoon and I've got plans for tonight. Kids run away all the time. She'll be fine. More than fine. She's one of us."  
  
"Are you forgetting what she's seen?" Max asked. "Joshua, our barcodes --"  
  
"Uh, Max, that's your barcode," Alec reminded her. "I didn't show her anything."  
  
"Explain it to me. What's ... your ... problem?" Max said through her teeth.  
  
Grace found she was gritting her own teeth. Max at least seemed to care about finding Isabelle, but Alec was impossible. And in her state of mind, Grace wasn't in the mood for impossible.   
  
"My problem?" Alec snapped back. In his eyes Grace saw another flash of that seemingly real anger he had shown the night before. She suddenly felt very confused. "It's not my problem, Max, it's your problem. You're all over the place with this. Some days you can't free the trangenics fast enough, but today you want to drag the girl back to her parents. You know what? I think you're ignoring her because you wanna keep an eye on your man, especially with her around." This with a jerk of the thumb in Grace's direction.  
  
"My man --" Max began to protest, but he cut her off.  
  
"Come on, Max, admit it. You're all over the place with good old Logan too. One minute you're mooning over him and the next minute you're out half the night with Pizza Boy. You don't love him. I just can't figure out whether you're using him to get fake IDs for your friends or whether you feel sorry for him. You know, the crippled-guy thing. You girls seem to go crazy for that."  
  
For a moment both Grace and Max were speechless. Max opened her mouth to answer but suddenly Grace was angry. Really angry. Logan could be defended later. She was not going to stand on this sidewalk all afternoon while these two bickered and Isabelle disappeared further into the Seattle underworld.   
  
"Listen to me," she said in a voice so cold that both Max and Alec turned to face her in surprise. "You WILL spend this afternoon helping to find her, or I will personally turn you in. That girl's mother is heartbroken -- and I AM NOT GOING TO LOSE MY JOB OVER THIS. We will find her, and she will go back where she belongs right away. Am I being clear?"  
  
"Your job? You're worried about your job?" Alec said condescendingly.  
  
"Yes, I am," Grace said. She couldn't care less any more what either one of them thought. "A hospital doesn't look too kindly on its employees kidnapping patients. And you know what else? YOU can't get fired from being a transgenic. I'm not that lucky."  
  
Max and Alec exchanged glances. "Calm down, Grace, you're losing it," Max began.  
  
"It's high time someone lost it with you, missy," said a voice behind them, and Grace turned to see a man in thick black glasses and headset regarding them sternly. "You've been gone for hours. And you started off the day so well. Who's this?" he demanded, fixing Grace with a stare that was meant to be intimidating. Grace was past intimidation now, but before she could do more than stare back, Alec said,  
  
"It's cool, Normal, this is Grace. She's a member of the clergy."  
  
"Clergy?" Suddenly he dropped the belligerence. "What's a -- Is this the counselor?"  
  
"Counselor?" Max said impatiently.  
  
"Yes, missy, the counselor! The one your roommate claims is treating you? For your anger management issues?"  
  
"Yeah," Max said. "Yeah, that's it. This is my counselor." She plastered a fake sweet smile on her face. "Don't I look serene?"  
  
"Well." He looked at Grace. "You've undertaken a worthy project, and believe me, you have my best wishes for your success in this endeavor. You'll need it. But this is a workplace --"  
  
Max looked up in the sky. "Oh look, sun's directly overhead. It's noon, and I'm officially off the clock. Come on, Grace," she said. Grace followed her, glad to get away from -- whatever his name was. And she had thought Norris was a pain.  
  
Alec wanted to leave too, but Normal put a hand on his arm to stop him. Then, nodding in Grace's direction, he said under his breath, "Are you --"  
  
"Am I what?" Alec replied impatiently. Then comprehension dawned. "Oh. Oh no. No, not my type."  
  
"Could you -- do you think you could get me her, you know --"  
  
"Her number? No problem, man." Alec just wanted to get rid of Normal. Whatever it took.   
  
"Well thanks. Thanks very much," Normal said happpily as Alec hurried after Grace and Max, who were by this time far down the street.   
  
"Hey," he called, and they turned around together, glaring at him with nearly identical expressions. He should have known that sooner or later they'd gang up on him, he thought. "I'm coming," was all he dared say.   
  
----------------------------------  
  
In the abandoned apartment the afternoon crawled by. Both Logan and Kara were very hungry and thirsty, and Logan's upper back ached terribly from the awkward way he was perched on the chair. The inoperative exoskeleton froze his legs straight out in front of him. He wanted desperately to take it off to improve his balance but he could just imagine the questions Kara would ask. So he did what he could, stretching his arms and shoulders, though it wasn't enough.  
  
As the afternoon light began to fade there was a flurry of activity in the Steelhead apartment, and then to Kara and Logan's joy, they left. In something of a hurry, too, after one of them got a cell phone call that seemed to alarm or excite him. Any other time Logan would have been very curious about that call, but now it meant only one thing: it was time to grab that ladder.  
  
It took a while, and there was one terrible moment when Kara hooked the ladder and then dropped it again, the clatter ringing up and down the alley while Logan and Kara pulled back into the shadows, barely daring to breathe. But after one furious shout of "Shut the fuck up, whoever did that," from somewhere down the block, no one seemed to care. Kara waited a while before trying again, and this time succeeded. In just a minute or two she had raised the ladder, climbed cautiously out over the windowsill, and made it to the ground. She picked up her telephone, shook her head at Logan to indicate that it wasn't working, and then with a quick wave disappeared up the metal steps and through the passageway that led to the street.  
  
Logan watched her go with a mixture of relief and apprehension. After much inner debate, he had agreed to let her send someone from the station to pry the door open and spring him from this place. He would rather have given her Max's number, but there were a million reasons that was a bad idea. First, he had gotten himself into this situation and would get himself out. Second, he didn't want to give a reporter, especially one as nosy as Kara Bennett, Max's phone number. And third, for all he knew, Max still had her hands full with Isabelle. Maybe she didn't even know he was gone.  
  
But there was one reason above all others that he hadn't asked for Max. This apartment must be up at least one flight of stairs from the street; he had to assume the only way to get him out of here was to carry him out. And that was exactly why he didn't want Max around. Not because he cared about having to accept that kind of help from her -- he was past that now, or at least he thought he was -- but because in their current situation, she couldn't do that for him. And it seemed cruel to shove the virus in her face any more than absolutely necessary.   
  
I know, I know, he told himself, shifting his shoulders again to ease the ache. I can't protect her from all the pain in her life, and even if I could that wouldn't be the answer. She has to find the answer herself. But just this once, I'm going to cut her a break. Just a little one, but a break. God knows she deserves it. 


	11. Answers

A/N: Thanks to an accidental double upload of Chapter 10, I've had to add both 11 and 12 to make this an official update. There is one more chapter coming after this!  
  
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Kara practically ran down the alley and out to her car, she was so relieved to be out of that cat-piss-smelling hellhole of a building.  
  
Relief carried her through the tedious process of extricating her car from the too-tight parking space and fighting the Saturday evening traffic back to the station. She worked out a cover on the way: that she'd been out investigating a tip but couldn't say more until the story developed. She told Julie the same thing over the phone, between apologies. She'd figure out what else to say later, she decided.   
  
Finally everyone settled down enough for her to grab a soda from the vending machine and head for the room where the camera guys hung out between assignments. It should be easy enough to get somebody to follow her over to that building and break the door down. The way she figured it, how Cale got home wasn't her problem. He could borrow her phone and call a friend. She had to get home to Julie and pick up the pieces of her weekend.  
  
Just as she pushed open the door of the crew room, she heard someone shouting her name. "Kara! Don't you move! I've got a story and no one to cover -- you up for it?" It was the senior evening news producer, a woman Kara had been trying to impress for some time now, hoping to get subbed in as anchorwoman one of these days.  
  
Kara hesistated. She wasn't really in the mood, but it was her policy never to pass up a chance to do someone that powerful a favor. "Sure!" she yelled back, smiling, and the producer happily caught up and went into the crew room with her. I'll stop by and help him on the way back, Kara promised herself as the producer quickly outlined the story.  
  
-----------------------------------------  
  
Full darkness fell, and the empty space around Logan seemed to close in until the room was only the size of the faint patch of light from the window. What is taking that woman so long? he wondered irritably. When is she going to get here?  
  
Bored, apprehensive, he picked up his phone again and played with it. Wonder if the battery's still any good, he thought, pressing the "call" button automatically, for what? The hundredth time in the last twenty hours?  
  
And this time he got a dial tone.  
  
He nearly dropped the phone, he was so excited. Slow down there, he warned himself. It could go out again any second. Stay cool. Now -- you probably have practically no juice left in the thing. Either make a call or shut it off. But he didn't want to shut it off -- what if Max called, or what if he couldn't get it back on again? With shaking fingers, despite his earlier decision, he called Max.  
  
No answer. Voicemail. He didn't bother leaving a message.  
  
Damn, he thought, now what? Do I try someone else or wait it out? There was Matt Sung, but ... no, that was way too much explaining to do, especially since he was trying to keep Matt from asking questions that might lead back to Max. No, he should just wait a bit and --  
  
Across the alley, the lights came on suddenly. The Steelheads were home.  
  
He expected them to flop down on the couch and turn on the TV, but something seemed to be happening out of his line of sight. It looked like they were speaking to someone he couldn't see. Then they burst into silent laughter and someone new, a young girl with long blond hair, came shyly into the room.  
  
Isabelle. The girl Alec had brought to his apartment. What on earth was she doing with Steelheads? All sorts of crazy scenarios ran through Logan's head. What had happened to Max and Alec and Grace? Had the girl run away? Why were the Steelheads interested in her? Did they have some idea just exactly what she was?  
  
This was not good. Not good at all. His own discomfort forgotten, Logan watched the windows across the alley, trying over and over again to call Max.  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
After some discussion, Max and Grace went one way, Alec in the opposite direction. "Call if anything happens," Max told him. But there was no sign of Isabelle anywhere. And Max's phone was silent.  
  
"Guess he's not having any luck, either, huh?" Grace said after a while.  
  
"No," said Max absently, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She gave it a quick glance, started to put it away, looked more closely. "Dammit! I never turned it back on this morning!" Grace watched her check for messages, then shove the phone back into her pocket in disappointment. "Nothing," she said, heaving a huge sigh. "I'm starving. Let's eat something."  
  
At a nearby store Grace watched in fascination as Max bought and consumed two apples, a banana, a large bag of chips, and a quart of milk, while she sipped halfheartedly at some juice. She was far too anxious to eat, but Max's appetite seemed unaffected. Does she always eat that much? Grace thought. She's so tiny. Guess enhanced people come with enhanced metabolisms.  
  
Max seemed a bit more cheerful as she finished off the last of the milk, and Grace decided to venture a question. Maybe this would be neutral territory. "Do you have any idea what's bothering Alec?" she began.  
  
"He's just yanking my chain," Max said. "Like I said the other day, who cares?"  
  
"Well, you know, sometimes he sounds really angry."  
  
Max fixed her with a hard stare, then shrugged. "He grew up at Manticore. If I had to choose between that and slavery in some third-world country, I'd take the slavery."  
  
"Oh." Grace felt embarrassed. "Well, I guess I should, um, apologize for that thing I said about getting fired, earlier."  
  
Max didn't react to that. She only said, "Couldn't you just get another job? Like at a church?"  
  
"Maybe. Probably not. I don't know." Grace didn't know why she was telling Max this, but Max had asked. "Alec was wrong. I'm not actually a member of the clergy. I've just had some seminary training, and the hospital took me because I'm cheaper than the real thing."  
  
"Oh." Max began to pick up her trash.  
  
Grace took a deep breath. "Anyway, Alec had no right to say those things to you about Logan. He's only doing it because I'm there."  
  
Max threw an apple core into her bag. She didn't look up.  
  
Grace paused, holding her breath. She had something to say, something she had wanted to tell Max for a long time. She had just never imagined doing it in the middle of a busy street on a Saturday evening. "Look, I'm really sorry about what happened last summer."  
  
"You didn't do anything wrong," Max said stiffly, still looking at her bag.  
  
"I know," Grace said. "I'm not apologizing, exactly. I'm just saying I'm sorry it hurt you. And is hurting you now."   
  
Max said nothing.  
  
Hoping she was doing the right thing, Grace continued, "Last summer ... I mean, I've seen a lot of people suffer, but I never met anyone like him. I never saw anyone so strong. I just wanted to help him. I'm sorry," she repeated.  
  
Max had set the milk carton on the curb. Now without looking up she smashed it flat with her foot, picked it up, and tossed it into an overflowing garbage can nearby. "Maybe it's just one more thing to chalk up to Manticore," she said finally, staring hard at the garbage.  
  
"Yeah," said Grace. After a moment she began, "Should we --"  
  
Max folded her arms, kicked at a bit of garbage in the gutter. "Wait. I want to ask you something. Even if you're not an official whatever. 'Cause Father Destry hasn't been around and this is really bugging me."  
  
"Sure," said Grace, trying not to sound as apprehensive as she felt. Who was Father Destry? Max and a priest? Why?  
  
Max said, "How does it work when you make a deal with God?"  
  
That, Grace thought, came right out of left field. Cautiously she answered, "What kind of a deal with God?"  
  
"Logan was really, really sick. I promised God I'd do anything if he would save him. And he did." Now Max looked right at her, her eyes pleading even if her face was stern. "So what do you think? Maybe he'll ask me to save a life?"  
  
"Kind of a quid pro quo?"  
  
"Yeah," said Max.  
  
"God does something big, you do something big .. you're even?"  
  
"Yeah!" Max agreed, as if Grace had just said something very intelligent.  
  
Grace hesitated. She had absolutely no idea what to say. At times like this, she had discovered, all you could do was open your mouth and let words out. It was either the very worst or the very best thing you could do. Hoping for the latter, she said slowly, "Logan told me you saved his life more than once. And other people's. So -- saving lives is kind of business as usual for you, isn't it?"  
  
"Guess so."  
  
"So, maybe it will be something harder. Something you have to work at a little."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
And then she said it, the thing she totally didn't mean to say. The thing that slipped out of her mouth because deep down she was still too busy feeling sorry for herself to feel sorry for Max. "Well, you could try appreciating what you have."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Her voice hostile, but something about the look on Max's face brought tears to Grace's eyes. Tears for herself? Tears for Max? She didn't know.   
  
She said, "He loves you. Logan loves you. I knew from the first moment that he loved you with all his heart." She heard the quiver in her voice.  
  
There was a silence. Grace didn't dare look at Max until her feelings were a little more under control. When she did look, she saw that Max was nearly as upset as she was.  
  
"Did you know I almost killed him?" Max asked in a low voice.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Manticore poisoned me with a virus targeted to his DNA. If I touch him, he dies. I almost killed him the night I came back."  
  
"Was that--"  
  
"When I did the deal? No. There was an antigen. One dose, and I had to use it. So there is no second chance. I screw up, it's all over. That's why I was going to keep going. Stay with Jace."  
  
Grace said softly, "Why?" Good God, she thought, appalled. How had Manticore managed to do so much damage to hearts and minds, all in the name of superior strength?   
  
"Eyes Only. They hate him."  
  
"But ... he knew about the virus when when he went after you. He didn't let it stop him."  
  
Max turned her face away. "I should have stayed there. I kick myself every day that I didn't go through with it and let him go."  
  
"Max. You really should stop talking like that." Grace hated the tone of Max's voice. "Keep it up and one of these days someone's going to take you up on it."  
  
"Is that a threat?"  
  
"No." Grace thought, Even if I thought I had a chance, I couldn't do that to her. It's just not fair. "No, it's not. But I don't have to tell you ... he's wonderful --"  
  
"But I'm not!" Max said, viciously crunching the paper bag.   
  
"Stop it. That virus is Manticore. It isn't you."  
  
Max's head came straight up. Her eyes were wide. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said, it's Manticore, it isn't --"  
  
That was when the phone in Max's pocket began to ring. Grace saw the alarm spread across Max's face as she listened. "Where are you?" Max asked, and, then, after a long pause, "518 North Street, right, got it." She snapped the phone shut. "Come on, we've got to run. Now!" she snapped at Grace.   
  
They ran.  
  
----------------------------  
  
Logan leaned back against the wall next to the window, momentarily weak with relief. For the past fifteen minutes he had been watching the doings across the alley, increasingly uneasy as the Steelheads' behavior toward Isabelle gradually changed from boisterous to something far more menacing.   
  
At first they had acted like big, harmless kids, laughing, wrestling, smacking each other around a bit, while Isabelle perched on the edge of the couch smiling. Before long the game had moved a bit closer to her, until there were Steelheads on either side of her, and then suddenly the one to her right pinned her arms behind her back while the one on her left roughly yanked her hair aside. Logan went cold. These guys were smart, very smart, and they certainly knew what a barcode meant.   
It was only a matter of time until they discovered her other secret.  
  
He had to act, and soon. But the last thing he wanted to do was call the cops, even Matt. He was sure White was monitoring all police communications, either electronically or through contacts. If word of a barcode -- or worse -- reached him, Isabelle would be in even more danger than she was now.   
  
Another look out of the window had confirmed his worst fears. Isabelle was now standing in the center of the room, Steelheads holding her arms, the metal-haired woman inspecting her up and down as if she were about to begin a strip search. Isabelle was crying; he couldn't see her face, but he saw her shoulders shaking. "Come on, be there, Max," he whispered as he hit the redial button one last time.  
  
It rang. And she answered.  
  
Max wanted to know where he was, but he cut her off. "Get to 518 North Street as fast as you can. Ground floor apartment, rear. Steelheads have Isabelle. You've got to get her out of there. Now!" Max responded to the command implicit in his words and tone. Suddenly he was listening to a dial tone.  
  
Hang in there, Isabelle, you're stronger than you know, he thought, watching from his window. Max is coming. Just hold out till then. 


	12. More Answers

Max immediately called Alec, and they met him on a street corner eight blocks away. When Grace saw that Joshua was with him, lurking in a shadowy doorway nearby, she thought Alec and Max were going to fight again. But she had forgotten since the summer how focused Max could be in an emergency. And now Alec's military training was evident as well.  
  
"I only brought him out at dark. Thought he could follow her trail," he told Max with none of the confrontational tone he generally used.   
  
Max gave a quick nod. "I'll take him with me," she said. "You two go. Now." To Grace she said, "Alec's been there before. He's more than a match for them. And she's gonna need you." She handed Grace her bicycle, Alec climbed on his, and before Grace and Alec had pedaled away, she and Joshua had disappeared into the darkness.  
  
Grace pedaled as fast as she could, but she wasn't used to riding, and could already tell she was going to slow Alec down, maybe disastrously. "Shouldn't you go ahead?" she shouted ahead to him.   
  
"Yes, but not yet!" he shouted over his shoulder, then dropped back until he was even with her. "After we get through the sector checkpoint, I'm going to take off. All you have to do is ride straight on Water Street until it intersects North, then hang a left. Got it?"  
  
"Yes," was all she had breath to say.  
  
"Okay." They pedaled furiously for a while but Saturday night traffic and crowds began to slow them. The line at the checkpoint was long and they walked their bikes until they could get close enough to flash their IDs. As they waited Alec was restless. Finally he said,  
  
"So where is old Logan, anyway?"  
  
"I don't know. He wouldn't tell Max."  
  
Alec snorted. "Probably sitting up in that nice penthouse of his like a prince in an ivory tower, waiting for Max to come running over 'cause he called. She acts more like a puppy than Dog Boy does. Betcha she stops there on the way over. She's always stopping there."  
  
"Is that what you have against him? You don't like the way Max acts with him?"  
  
"I just don't get what Max sees in him. You, I understand. Good-looking rich guy, you're into all that caretaking stuff ..."  
  
"You think I was taking care of him?" In spite of the emergency and her aching legs, Grace was getting annoyed again. She'd assumed he would settle down without Max around, but he was going strong. She wished she could shut him up.  
  
"Well, then, what were you doing?" He kept glancing up at the checkpoint as they talked.  
  
Again Grace opened her mouth and completely surprised herself. "We were sleeping together. Hmmm, now -- what else would you call that in Common Verbal Usage? Doing it? Yeah, that sounds right."   
  
For once Alec was speechless. He looked at Grace, up at the checkpoint, and back at Grace again. "Huh," he said finally.  
  
"You really didn't know? You were spying on us. You didn't notice?"  
  
"Hey, I wasn't looking in the windows."  
  
Grace shrugged. She knew she'd regret this later, but right now it was kind of fun. "There you go. Now you know what I see in him, at least."  
  
He still seemed stunned. "He was ... and she wouldn't ... Damn." The crowd in front of them moved forward suddenly and Alec abruptly shook off his amazement. In seconds he was all soldier, focused, poised to ride. "Get your ID out," he instructed quietly.   
  
Alec shouted that he was a messenger, Grace flashed her ID quickly behind his, and they rode through the checkpoint easily. As promised Alec pulled away the moment they cleared the crowd, while Grace followed slowly, wondering what awaited them on North Street.  
  
-------------------------  
  
Max had a million questions and desperately wanted to call Logan back, but first she had to figure out how to get herself and Joshua through the sector and past the checkpoint to where the deserted streets where Joshua could move safely. Finally she decided on that good old standby, hitching a ride. They waited until a truck pulled into the checkpoint line, quickly climbed into the back, and hid behind some crates until the inspectors closed the doors again and the truck stopped at a light well into the next sector. Joshua was surprisingly quick and agile for someone who hadn't been trained in evasive maneuvers, Max thought. But that was stupid. He'd trained himself, all those years in the basement.  
  
As soon as they were out on the street again she called Logan back.   
  
"Where are you?" she demanded as she ran. "How did you find Isabelle?"  
  
"Long story," his voice came over the phone. "I'll have a lot more fun telling it to you when there's more time. How close are you?"  
  
Max glanced at the street sign. "Eight blocks. How long have I got?"  
  
Logan sounded grim. "Not long. Make it snappy, Max. Call me back when you get there." The phone clicked off.  
  
Alec was just pulling up on his bike when Max and Joshua sprinted up to the building. "In here!" Max called over her shoulder as she ran up the stairs of 518, followed by Alec. Joshua's eyes narrowed. "I smell her," he told Max. Then he slipped into the shadows of the alley next to the building to wait.  
  
---------------------------  
  
Five minutes later Grace rode up on Max's bike, winded and a bit scared. Something about the empty streets and burned-out buildings frightened her. Hard to tell what hid behind those brick walls, watching. And she was clearly out of place here.   
  
She climbed off the bike and began to walk cautiously along the sidewalk, her skin prickling. She was so tempted to look over her shoulder. When she passed a dark alleyway the creepiness was too much, and she did look. While her head was turned she heard a door bang, footsteps, and suddenly something slammed into her, very hard. She skidded across the sidewalk and hit the side of the building next to the alley, which knocked the wind out of her for a moment. She wanted very badly to get up and run but she was stunned and her arm hurt. A lot.  
  
As she lay there trying to breathe a man scrambled up from the sidewalk, disentangling himself from Max's bicycle. That's what hit me, Grace thought, and then a dark blur flew out of the alley beside her and tackled the man. There was a scuffle on the ground, and then out of the building ran two more men and a woman. Grace got a quick glimpse of more silver studs and wires than she had ever seen on a human being, and then Max and Alec came out of the building, Alec with his arm around a sobbing Isabelle.   
  
Max was on the sidewalk in a flash, reaching into the scuffle and separating the combatants. One of them was dressed like the people who had run out of the building. Max gave him a rough shove and said, "Beat it!" He didn't have to be asked twice. He gave Max one wild look and ran down the street and around the corner. At that point Grace realized the second person was Joshua. "What were you doing?" Max was asking him, urgently but kindly.   
  
Joshua turned and pointed to the sidewalk where Grace sprawled. "He hit Grace."   
  
"Oh, crap," Max said, turning around.  
  
"I'm all right," Grace said. As far as she could tell, she was, except for her arm, which felt raw and bruised but otherwise all right. She could move it, at least. She climbed to her feet as Max pointed to the alley.  
  
"In here," she commanded. The little group gathered around Isabelle. Max rubbed her arm gently and asked, "Are you all right?"  
  
"I want to go home," Isabelle sobbed. "Take me back to my parents."   
  
There was very little light in the alley, but Grace could see Max and Alec exchange glances. Max said, "Are you sure, Isabelle? You know what will happen when you go back there."  
  
"They were going to hook me up to a machine," Isabelle sobbed. "They wanted to do something to my blood."  
  
"They saw your barcode?"  
  
"They saw everything. They took my shirt off. If that's what it means I don't want the barcode or any of the rest of it. I just want my mom." She broke down again, crying into Alec's shoulder. For a long time, Max and Alec looked at each other. Finally, Alec touched the back of Isabelle's hair and said gently, "It's all right. We'll take you back."  
  
For just a moment Max's face softened, but before she could speak, her phone rang. "Hey," Grace heard her say. "We got her." There was more, but Grace leaned back against the building, not listening. Her knees were beginning to shake and she felt lightheaded. Breathe, she told herself, trying to relax.  
  
Then Max swore into the phone. "There's a news van pulling up!"  
  
On the other end of the call, Logan groaned. Now his ride was showing up, at the worst possible time. How could they get rid of ... "Max! Is anyone getting out of the van?"  
  
"Yes. Blonde woman, looks like a reporter, and a camera guy."  
  
"Is Grace there with you?"  
  
"Yes, but --"  
  
"Quick. Send Grace and Isabelle out into the street to meet the reporter. She was at the news conference the other night. She'll recognize Grace."  
  
Max got it immediately. "She'll be all over the runaway story --"  
  
"-- while the rest of you slip out the back. Yeah, you've got it."  
  
Max waved at Isabelle. "Grace, take her. That's a reporter. She'll --" She stopped. Blood, a lot of it, was running down Grace's arm. "Wait, Logan, Grace is hurt."  
  
"Bad?"  
  
But now Grace understood what Logan and Max were talking about. She yanked her arm out of Max's hand. "I'm okay," she said, reaching out for Isabelle.   
  
"You're bleeding --"  
  
"It's a skinned knee."   
  
For just a second Max looked confused. Then she nodded. "Go! And see a doctor, okay?"  
  
"I work at a hospital, remember?" Grace said, and pulled Isabelle out into the light.  
  
Down the street the cameraman said, "Who the hell is that?"  
  
Kara squinted. Two women? A woman and a girl? As they approached she suddenly recognized the shorter, brown-haired woman. She'd been at the Metro Medical conference the other night ... oh my God! The runaway! She had the runaway! Kara couldn't believe her luck. She was walking right up to the biggest story of the week! "Turn on that camera!" she shouted at the cameraman, grabbing his phone to call the station. I'll send someone to get you after this, she silently promised Logan Cale, and they they went forward to greet the runaway girl, filming all the while.  
  
------------------------  
  
Alec, Max, and Joshua waited in the alley until the news van pulled away with Grace and Isabelle inside. Then Max dared to breathe into the phone, "That's it. They're out of here."  
  
"Good." Logan bent forward, stretching his back. His head ached with hunger. "Where are you?"   
  
"In an alley next to the Steelheads' place. Where are you?"  
  
"About two hundred feet behind you."  
  
"What?"  
  
Following Logan's directions, Max, Alec, and Joshua made their way down the alley, down the metal stairs, and back to the window. Joshua sniffed and wrinkled his nose. "Cat," he growled, pointing at the window.   
  
Logan's head appeared, his glasses glinting in the dim light. He held a finger to his lips, then waved a hand, indicating the buildings up and down the alley.   
  
Max nodded. Silently she climbed the ladder. "How long have you been here? Can you climb down?"  
  
"About twenty-four hours, and no. The exo is shorted out."  
  
"Where's the car?"   
  
"On the street back there."  
  
Max looked around doubtfully. "I can't get you down the ladder --"  
  
"I know."  
  
When Max climbed back down Joshua had disappeared, but Alec was waiting at the bottom. "How long has he been up there?" he whispered to Max.  
  
"Only about a day," Max said coldly, walking away. Alec grabbed her arm.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"He can't climb down. I'm going to get Joshua to help."  
  
"I'll do it." Alec stepped on the first rung of the ladder. Max stopped him.  
  
"Wouldn't want you to go all that trouble for the crippled guy," she whispered in his ear.   
  
"I'm doing it for Joshua. He doesn't like the cat smell," Alec said defensively, and disappeared into the apartment.  
  
What's got into him? Max wondered. Oh, whatever. Had anyone in her life ever annoyed her more? I'll just go keep a lookout at the street, she thought, and made her way easily back down the dark alley, to where she couldn't see Alec carry Logan down the ladder. 


	13. Good Nights

A/N: This chapter was drafted before Borrowed Time aired. I decided to let it stand.   
  
Remember, this story takes place between MITM and Brainiac.  
  
Thank you all for reading and reviewing!  
  
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The ride back across town was long, but Logan insisted on driving, lightheaded and exhausted as he was. He and Max were blessedly alone, Alec and Joshua having decided to ride the bicycles back. Logan was mildly disappointed that he hadn't had a good look at Joshua before they pedaled away. It had been hard to see much at all from his upside-down position over Alec's shoulder and they hadn't wanted to linger, knowing the Steelheads would return sooner or later. One of these days I'll get a good look at the guy, he thought hazily, trying to concentrate on the road ahead.   
  
And besides, he was perfectly happy to be alone with Max.  
  
Max was quiet, as she was so often these days. He'd expected a million questions, but once in the car she'd said, "Tell me all about it after we get out of here?" Now she seemed lost in thought, and he left her alone.   
  
Besides, he was a bit preoccupied himself. He needed to figure out how to get Max to come home with him instead of splitting, like she did way too often these days.  
  
When they pulled into his parking space and he shut off the car, she jumped right out. "Let me bring the chair down, okay?" she called over her shoulder.   
  
"Sure. Leave me your phone?"  
  
"Sure." Max tossed the phone into the car and headed for the elevator. He made a quick call, then settled back in the driver's seat.  
  
The wait seemed interminable. He was half-asleep when she finally emerged from the elevator with his chair. As soon as he was out of the car she said,  
  
"I'm dying for a hot bath, so I'm gonna blaze. Get something to eat and some rest, okay? I'll call you later." She turned towards the street where her bike was parked.  
  
"Hey." How badly did he want to reach out to her? So badly that he had to fold his arms to keep his hand still. "You can't do that to me," he said lightly.  
  
"Do what?" she asked, turning back. The conflict in her face -- the desire to stay and the desire to run -- was heartbreaking. He said gently,  
  
"I've just had a huge adventure. I've got at great story to tell and you're going to leave me here with no audience? After all the times I've listened to your stories?"  
  
"I'll call you."  
  
"Not the same."  
  
"I want a bath."  
  
"More than you want to know about my night with a Channel 3 reporter?"  
  
That got her. He had to hide a grin at the jealous curiosity in her eyes. "Well ..."  
  
"Come on. You can take a bath any time. How often do you get to hear about my cat-burgling?"  
  
She hesitated a few seconds longer, and then gave in, with a sudden smile so brilliant and beautiful it made him tremble. You did it, you talked her into staying, he told himself as they made their way to the elevator. Though his efforts to find "the machine" had been a total disaster, at least so far, here was hope, unexpected and beautiful. Max had found the courage to come home with him.  
  
-------------------  
  
Later, they sat in the living room, with the remains of a picnic dinner spread out on the coffee table, both still dirty and exhausted. The stories had been told, the questions asked. There had been some serious moments, some laughter and teasing. Now they were mostly talked out.   
  
"Can we do something?" Max asked suddenly in the silence.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Watch the news? I want to see if there's anything, you know, about tonight."  
  
In answer he reached for the remote control and turned on the set.   
  
Sure enough, there was a live news conference at Metro Medical. Max recognized the hospital guy who had been in Grace's office the night before. He was answering a question. As he finished, the camera cut to the press crowded into a small room. A blonde reporter called out, "Can you tell us anything more about how the girl was found?"   
  
"Oh, is that her?" Max asked, not very nicely.  
  
"That's her. My friend Kara." Logan laughed at the expression on Max's face. It felt great to know that Kara Bennett had better stay out of Max Guevara's way.   
  
The camera cut back to the podium, where a well-dressed man and a woman -- Isabelle's parents, she guessed -- stood beside Hospital Guy. And next to them was Grace, still in her jeans and T-shirt. Hospital Guy motioned Grace forward. Grace cleared her throat and said, "I received a tip from a source, a youth counselor, who needs to remain anonymous. Confidentiality issues." Max saw a big patch of white gauze and tape on the arm that had been bleeding in the alley.  
  
Isabelle's mother stepped forward and added, "We're not interested in asking a lot of questions. We're just glad our daughter's back, and we're grateful for all Ms. Guerin's help." She smiled at Grace as Hospital Guy leaned towards the microphones and said authoritatively, "That's it. Thanks very much. Good night." Accompanied by the parents and Grace, he turned away from the podium.   
  
Immediately the camera cut back to the blonde reporter, who announced breathlessly, "As we've been reporting this evening, the runaway patient from Metro Medical, thirteen-year-old Isabelle Tyler, has been found and is safe. A Channel 3 news team just happened to be on the scene when Grace Guerin, a staffer at Metro Medical ..."  
  
"It worked," Max said in a wondering voice, and Logan quickly turned down the volume.  
  
"Seems that way," he agreed. "No exposure to you or anyone else. Think she'll tell anyone?"  
  
"No," Max said. "That little taste of transgenic life was definitely more than enough for her. She'll want to get as far away from it as she can."  
  
"You were right. She didn't have a clue how to take care of herself out there."  
  
"Of course not," Max sighed. "She's not a soldier, she's just a rich kid -- no offense --"  
  
"None taken," Logan said with a straight face.  
  
"And she's thirteen. She's naive. She just went home with those Steelheads when they found her on the street! She was careless with her barcode! White would have found her in no time." Max was beginning to look upset again.  
  
"It's over. She's home," Logan soothed her.  
  
"Which is what Isabelle wants. And she'll be better off this way. She really will." Max sighed. On screen, the camera showed the group leaving the conference room. A crowd of hospital personnel stood outside the room, and Max saw someone familiar step out of the crowd and walk next to Grace. "Is that Sam?" she asked.  
  
"Yes. While you came up here for the chair, I gave him a call and asked him to take a look at her arm. That alley was disgusting."  
  
Max smiled. "Good idea," she said. He smiled back.   
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
Logan was clearly exhausted, so for security's sake Max answered it, not quite sure what to expect. To her surprise it was Alec, cleaned up, but sporting a bruise on his jaw. "Looks like one of those Steelheads landed one on you. Come on in," she invited.  
  
Alec rubbed his jaw. "No thanks. I've got plans for tonight. Just stopped to drop this off." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
"I'm not sure, exactly. Looks to me like some kind of microchip. It was lying on a table in the Steelheads' place, and somehow it ended up in my pocket during the fight."  
  
"Isn't that strange," Max agreed, hiding a smile.  
  
"Yeah," said Alec cheerfully. "Anyway, it's not the kind of thing I can, uh, dispose of through any of my connections. So I thought maybe one of you two could use it."  
  
Max opened the envelope and saw a chip that looked, to her at least, a lot like the one she'd once stolen for Logan. Now she did smile. If he could use it, they'd save some money repairing the exo. Money they could put towards searching for a cure.  
  
"Thanks," she said. Her gratitude seemed to put Alec in a big hurry.  
  
"Well, I'm late. Night," he said, turning to the elevator. Max saw he was carrying what appeared to be flowers wrapped in paper. What the hell? She couldn't resist calling after him, "Must be a pretty hot date."  
  
"What? Oh." Alec waved the flowers. "Not mine. I don't need bribes."  
  
"So what's it for?"  
  
"Sorry. Sworn to secrecy."  
  
Max shrugged. "Be that way," she returned, closing the door. She didn't need to beg. She could find out at work on Monday. Envelope in hand, she returned to the living room.  
  
"Hey, look -- " she began. But Logan was sound asleep, still in the chair. She smiled. Carefully, so carefully, she reached out and shook a wheel. He opened his eyes.  
  
"Go to bed," she said softly.  
  
"Okay," he said with a sleepy smile. "Good night."  
  
"Night."  
  
He rolled out of the living room, yawning. She watched him go, then quietly placed the envelope on the coffee table and let herself out.   
  
Now she was going home to have that bath.  
  
-----------------------  
  
Walking down the hall to her office, away from the blinding camera lights, Grace began to yawn so hard her eyes filled with tears. She just wanted to sit in her office and not move for a little while, at least not until she had the energy for the bus ride across town. She wanted a bath, but Sam Carr had forbidden her to wet her arm -- which now had five stitches in it -- and she was too tired to rig up some kind of covering. She could get to that tomorrow.  
  
Another huge yawn seized her and when her vision cleared, Alec was standing there. She was too tired to be startled. "Don't you people have audible footsteps?" she asked, half-smiling.  
  
"No," Alec answered, perfectly seriously. "We're made to sneak up on people."  
  
Grace yawned again. "What's up? Nothing else is wrong, is it?" She wasn't sure she had the energy to care if it was.  
  
"Not as far as I know. I'm going out tonight," Alec said. "I'm just here in my official capacity as a Jam Pony messenger."  
  
"Why?" Grace asked, mystified.  
  
"From an admirer." Alec handed her a bundle of florist paper with a small card attached. With trepidation Grace opened the card and read,  
  
" 'Well done. Reagan Ronald.' " She looked up at Alec, confused. "Who's that?"  
  
"My boss," said Alec wryly. Grace's jaw dropped.  
  
"You're kidding," she groaned. "Is this for ... I mean, because I yelled at Max ..."  
  
"When I got the bikes back to Jam Pony, he was watching the live coverage of your heroic rescue. Bet you'll have all kinds of fans coming out of the woodwork by morning."  
  
And then, to Grace's complete surprise, she began to laugh. The situation was just too funny. So this was what it all came down to, her great romantic pretensions: this absurd, touching bouquet of flowers from a total stranger. You wanted to be a hero, you are one, she thought. She couldn't stop laughing. Every time she began to calm down, the laughter would rise up from someplace deep inside.  
  
Alec watched her patiently from the doorway. Finally Grace managed to say, "This is sweet. But I can't accept it. I'm not what he thinks I am."  
  
"I'll say you're not," Alec agreed, and that set Grace off again.   
  
"Excuse me," said a man's voice from the doorway, and Grace looked up to see Isabelle's father standing there. That sobered her. "Mr. Tyler, is everything all right?" she asked, setting the flowers gently on the desk.  
  
"Yes, fine, thank you. I stopped by to see if there's anything you need. Could I have my driver take you home tonight? We'll be staying here so it's the least we can do."  
  
Grace started to say no, but over Tyler's shoulder Alec made a face at her. He's right, Grace thought. I should take the ride. "Thank you very much, I would appreciate that," she said. Alec winked at her approvingly.   
  
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to leave," he said politely. He motioned at the flowers. "Just keep those. I'll, uh, make the rest of it go away."  
  
"Thank you, Alec," Grace said, meaning it. He nodded cheerfully and was gone. Grace saw Tyler staring thoughtfully after him.  
  
"Who's that?" he asked, and then said, "Excuse me if that sounds rude. But he's quite attractive and I'm always on the lookout for new modeling talent. Now don't go and tell me he's one of your contacts in the church."  
  
Grace couldn't have thought of a better excuse herself. She put a regretful look on her face. "I'm afraid so," she said. "I don't think his superiors would approve."  
  
"No, I suppose not." Tyler smiled. "Good night, and take care of that arm. Please don't hesitate to ask for anything you need. We can't begin to thank you enough."  
  
"You're welcome," Grace replied softly as he turned and went down the hallway.  
  
She hated to take the credit, credit that really went to Max for seeing the truth from the start, and for rescuing Isabelle in the end. But she also understood that Max needed more than gratitude right now. She could worry about thank yous, or she could try to help Max in other ways. Like she had done tonight.  
  
I don't understand, Grace thought. I don't understand how I can love someone knowing that he doesn't love me back. I don't understand how two people can love each other so much and yet be prevented from fulfilling that love. But this where we are. This is how it is.  
  
"Excuse me, ma'am?" A uniformed chauffeur stood respectfully in the corridor. "I'll be right out here whenever you are ready to leave."  
  
"Thank you," Grace called back softly.   
  
She was tired. She reached to turn off her desk lamp, then stopped. What was the name of that priest Max had mentioned? Destry, Father Destry. Grace wrote the name down and taped it to her telephone. Tomorrow was a work day for Father Destry, but Monday morning she could start tracking him down, let him know Max was looking for him. She had a feeling that the Father would remember Max very well. Who wouldn't?  
  
Carefully, she slid her coat on over her sore arm, picked up the flowers, and turned out the light. Time to go.  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
